Calling You Out John Cale

I'm calling, calling
I'm calling you, calling
I'm calling, calling
I'm calling you out (calling)

I want to hear your footsteps climb
Lifting all that weight
Trying to make a shrinking world
As strong and just as safe
There's always room for change, my friend
I want you to explode
The last of living memory
Five, six, seven, or more
It's been a kind of gift, my friend
To have you here along
Among the broken promises
We ran into in the hall

I'm calling, calling
I'm calling you, calling
I'm calling, calling
I'm calling you out (calling)