Hey there, fridge, do you feel the chill?

Your door swings wide when I’m standing still.

Oh, toaster, you always burn my bread,

But I’ll forgive you, buddy, don’t lose your head.

I’m talking to chairs, I’m talking to spoons,

Talking to the curtains, they sway in tune.

The walls are my friends, the clock is my foe,

When I lose my mind, I just let it show.

Lamp in the corner, how’s your light tonight?

Flicker once for yes, twice for a fright.

And you, microwave, you beep and you beep,

Are you laughing at me or just can’t sleep?

I’m talking to plates, I’m talking to rugs,

Talking to the couch with its endless hugs.

The TV screen winks, it knows my name,

Inanimate things, but they play the game.

Wait...hey you, behind the screen,

I can hear you, know what I mean?

Are you eating chips and sipping Wabba's Lemonade?

(Not sponsored, but hey, that's homemade!)

Let me ask, just one more time...

What the moon smells like, ever cross your mind?

Now back to the fridge, where the butter hides,

We’ve got secrets, it confides.

I’m talking to you, yeah, you over there,

Don’t answer too quick...or would that be fair?

(are you still there?)