Do you need the service?
Do you need to call me daily?
Do you have reasons for calling at all?
Is something on your mind?
Is something wrong? I get the feeling
That you're laughing at my quiet surprise

My silhouette is changing
As I'm aging by your window
And I focus on a light by your face
Call me "the operator"
Making comments, "He's so technical"
Or "I've absolutely nothing to do"

Recycle all my photographs
I'll leave a picture of the queen
And no one has to know I was there
Me, I'm so ashamed
You're all connected to my number
And the conversation's only polite

I'll wear my old grey raincoat
Just in case you're "confidential"
Make up stories like "the screen fades away"
Today it's in a taxi
By the station, and it's raining
And I wonder how they made it before