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vernon scannell - the telephone number lyrics

searching for a lost address i find
among dead papers in a dusty drawer
a diary which has lain there quite ten years
and soon forget what i am looking for
intrigued by cryptic entries in a hand
resembling mine but noticeably more
vigorous than my present quavering scrawl
appointments—kept or not, i don’t remember—
with people now grown narrow, fat or bald;
a list of books that somehow i have never
found the time to read, nor ever shall
remind me that my world is growing cold
and then i find a scribbled code and number
the urgent words: ‘must not forget to call.’
but now, of course, i have no recollection
of telephoning anyone at all
the questions whisper: did i dial that number
and, if i did, what kind of voice replied?
questions that will never find an answer
unless—the thought is serpentine—i tried
to telephone again, as years ago
i did, or meant to do. what would i find
if now i lifted this mechanic slave
black to my ear and spun the dial—so… ?
inhuman, impolite, the double burp
erupts, insulting hope. the long dark sleeve
of silence stretches out. no stranger’s voice
slips in, suspicious, cold; no manic speech
telling what i do not wish to know
nor throaty message creamed with sensual greed—
nothing of these. and, when again i try
relief is tearful when there’s no reply

- vernon scannell lyrics

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