Now I rush to the finger of light
|
I guess I tore my head off
|
I hope there's something waiting for me
|
To make my exit pay-off
|
Taste and smell and touch
|
Have faded from pollution
|
As a last resort I chose the stupidest solution
|
The first thing I did when I got in gate
|
Was crank up the left-hand dial
|
I got there first
|
The track star seemed to take a while
|
Now I can dance like Nureyev
|
With these wings on my body
|
St. Peter complains that it's too loud down in the lobby
|
|
|
And I hear the voice of God
|
He's brillant on the microphone
|
And the radio in heaven
|
Can make a heathen feel at home
|
|
|
All these notes flying out play havoc with my heart
|
Every word sung is both emotional & smart
|
There's a gorgeous sunset
|
Happening on the airwaves
|
I really want you to hear this song one day
|
So you behave
|
|
|
And I hear the voice of God
|
He's brillant on the microphone
|
And the radio in heaven
|
Can make a heathen feel at home
|
At home
|
|
-----------------
|
Radios Of Heaven
|
| The Odds |
