Now I Rush To The Fingers 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 The Gate

Was Crank Up The Left-hand Dial

I Got There Frist 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 Brilliant 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 And 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 Brilliant On The Microphone

And The Radio In Heaven

Can Make A Heathen Feel At Home

At Home