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My Radio
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It's hard to remember days Mornings lost in a chronic haze Breath is fast and the trains are slow I barely feel it though All day long I fantasize In the dark behind other people's eyes And then they disappear Words get lost in the atmosphere The truth, I'll tell, I'll tell the truth Sixteen on a summer roof You ask for the facts Well I'll give you proof Hot sun on skin That crimson dress too thin All winter up her woods I touched it, it felt good All I want is my radio All I want is my radio He speaks in a voice I know A sound like sand when the tide is low We kiss to that voice each night Bathed in pale reactor light I cry when the morning comes Count my blessings and my funds Say "Thanks God for whatever comes" Then quickly cross my fingers All I want is a room somewhere

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