I knew a guitar player once Who called the radio friendly He felt a kinship, not with the music so much as with the radio's voice Its synthetic quality Its voice as distinct from the voices coming through it Its ability to transmit the illusion of people at a great distance
He slept with the radio He talked to the radio He disagreed with the radio He believed in a far away radio land
He believed he would never find this land So he reconciled himself to listening to it only He believed he had been banned from the radio land And was doomed to prowl the airwaves forever Seeking some magical channel That would reinstate him to his long lost heritage
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Copy to Clipboard: Words: Sam Shepherd
I knew a guitar player once Who called the radio friendly He felt a kinship, not with the music so much as with the radio's voice Its synthetic quality Its voice as distinct from the voices coming through it Its ability to transmit the illusion of people at a great distance
He slept with the radio He talked to the radio He disagreed with the radio He believed in a far away radio land
He believed he would never find this land So he reconciled himself to listening to it only He believed he had been banned from the radio land And was doomed to prowl the airwaves forever Seeking some magical channel That would reinstate him to his long lost heritage
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