Rise, Sam & Rimsky Korsakov

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

It's synthetic quality, it's voice as distinct
From the voices coming through it
It's 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