radio days 94-06

i crawled out of my chrysalis keep, flew to o’hare

was heading down to london, seemed the quickest way there

rollergirl rolled in and i could see i wasn’t free

so i spent a little devon time just searching for me

now rhymer had me summoned by the king and the queen

started living harder in the heart of the machine

the princess drove me crazy, so did glinda and la dauphine

but i played a tune for sasha, and flash came on the scene

and the sweet song of the radio played

beavis wrote me letters, promises were made

and the world wheeled round like a drunk

the queen she lined my pocket so i moved in with the boys

tc’s band was growing, we made a pretty noise

benny said love music and you might love your life

kinda understood him when i was talking to his wife

now flash was making tracks, with his new cerebral name

with every month reminding me to try to do the same

yes, i left the king and queen, i left the boys, i left the town

but a californian angel said ‘maybe i’ll stick around’

and the sweet song of the radio played…

now flash was playing the orange, and sparker started out

with me and rennie singing to the southover crowd

i stared into my mirror as the trio became a band

i was troubled by the demons but the angel held my hand

i kept my eyes on c-span and climbed onto a bike

the lord looked down upon me and saw little there to like

so he smote this doubting thomas – it was holy judgement day

‘pedalling’ was finished, but the angel flew away

and the sweet song of the radio played…

now god had left me ruined so i headed back to town

took a room up in galicia, joined the dover street crowd

i was happy at the troubadour, but losing sight of me

so i went to run the country – it wound up running me

now everyone’s getting settled – the angel, flash and vlad and gnome

and i’m playing jazz with berry, and rollergirl went home

miss piggy’s gone forever, and i’m trying not to cry

‘where there’s a Will there’s a way’ they say, but they lie

and the sweet song of the radio plays

beavis writes me letters, promises are made

and the world wheels round like a drunk

they say we’ll be ten billion on this crowded piece of rock

if you provide the dynamite, i can start the clock

the poet weeps an essay ‘cause the world is turning crude

the ragged clown’s a dj, and guido writes the news

the politicians are puppets, you know i’ve seen the strings

we all just watch the ball game and accumulate our things

well i used to be a grown-up, but now i guess i’m just a child

if it’s happiness we’re searching for, i’ll find it on the dial

where the sweet song of the radio plays

beavis writes me letters, promises are made

and the world wheels round like a drunk

written by tom yates 2 august 2006

tom yates - vocals, guitar, bass, cellos, keyboard, tambourine