Yeah... Digital love, digital leaks. Keep it on the low, or so they thought. Check it out. Blue light flickering in a dark room Two silhouettes dancing to a rhythmic boom Lotte and Sam, in a tangled knot Forgetting that the iPhone’s getting kinda hot In his denim jeans, a ghost in the machine A "pocket dial" nightmare, if you know what I mean Her mom is on the line, but she doesn’t say "hello" She just hears the symphony, the high and the low. Signals flying through the atmosphere Everything you whisper, she can overhear Static in the pocket, rhythm in the bed Better watch the secrets living in your head! The sheets are twisted like a hurricane gale Sam’s going in, he’s never gonna fail He leans in close, feeling like a king "Who’s your daddy?" – yeah, that’s the thing! He shouts it to the ceiling, he shouts it to the wall While Mom is on the speaker, hearing it all She’s sipping on her tea, eyes wide as a plate Recording every second of the "who’s your daddy" fate! Who’s your daddy? (Is it me?) Who’s your daddy? (Can’t you see?) The satellite is watching, the signal is free Who’s your daddy? (Not the one on TV!) Sunday morning, breakfast on the tray Sunlight hitting faces in a blurry gray Pass the butter, pass the toast Mom is looking like she’s seen a ghost... Or a comedian. The room goes quiet, Sam takes a sip Lotte’s feeling cool, not a single slip Then Mom leans forward with a wicked grin "So, Lotte, darling... before we begin..." "Who’s your daddy?"
