Georgie grew to hate her name. It sounded like a tiny man. And the one she had said "I can't see you but I'll call you whenever I can". Sometimes the phone would ring when she was half-asleep. A voice would drag her down with its suggestions. Though she often felt cheated she never felt cheap. CHORUS. Well heaven knows what fills the heart and makes you feel so alive. It's impossible to tear apart. Georgie and her rival. It was half-past February. And he hadn't called since New Year's Day. Maybe he'd found another woman to say those words no chapel girl should say. Her mother would phone and always keep talking. She'd try to be polite making faces. But somewhere in the back of her mind her rival was stalking. CHORUS. Her rival would always wait 'til the eighth or ninth bell. He'd be desperate anyway and drunk as well. She always liked to hurt him to prove he was prepared. To love her anyway that she wanted. So she could tell which she preferred. He sat up with his address book trying to think what mood he's in. His finger traced past Georgie's name to someone who needed less persuading. He didn't hear through her disguise he didn't leave her in a rush. Just like the promise that he left on her machine. That almost made her blush. The radio plays a lover's symphony. "The number you have dialed has been re-directed". Now she puts him on the speaker-phone. Whenever she has company.