I watch the sun go down on London town I wait for the night voices to sound I smell the pain upon the breath of the lost & lonely I hear the thoughts that whisper in the hearts of all men.
I'm the helpline operator & I'll spare you the time. I'm the intimate stranger. Your problems will be mine.
Put your tongue into the mouthpiece And whisper in my ear. Admit to me the things you can't admit to yourself. Admit to me & no one else. Everybody's looking for someone to tell them what they want to hear.