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Eyes clear as dialtone
Are you at home? Are you alone?
I call on the phone
Where have you gone, are you out on the street
Dead on your feet, or harvesting wheat?
My introvert, are you out chasing skirt?
Singing fiddle me rum
Fiddle me dumb
Your lady in her antechamber

Turtledove, my quivertail
My purple head, my nightingale
My corkscrewing fool
Cuckold coxcomb, is it me who's insane
Or is it you who's got sex on the brain?
Always discreet, always obscene
The Viscompte de Lisle is calling me still
Your lady in her antechamber

And time is passing
And you don't call, and my crest falls
So where are you now?
Out with some cow at some Japanese inn
Opening pork cooked in its skin
Pouring red wine like blood down a string
Singing fiddle me rum
Fiddle me dumb
Your lady in her antechamber

Eyes clear as dialtone
Here comes the queen, always discreet
Always obscene
Pushing her luck like the pig who got stuck
Don't think she hasn't got men queuing up
The Marquis of Rochdale's not there for good luck
Singing fiddle me rum
Fiddle me dumb
Your lady in her antechamber


Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher

Dialtone song meanings
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