What's better than a devil you know?

A call away from empty words, better left a dead end

Never imposed

A bitter never-come-to-terms

Closed off to your call box

A mental image you've come to loathe

You'll never seem to shake his voice

It's only at your lowest low you're all alone

Closed to your darling call box

I won't relive to revive your ego again

Nothing left to believe you'll learn from

Nothing left but to cut thе line

A dead end, closеd call box

Your mistake here to pick up the toll

A chance in hell says I might've called

A bitter never-come-to-terms

A part of me, no better than you

Scars left from a hate unlearned

A tourniquet to deaden the hue, a consequence of which you've earned

At your lowest low you're alone