Radio
Chris Walla
When I was a radio gliding through slate skies at dawn
Reception was marginal
But I still sang along as you clung to your balcony
And tried not to drown
You called in an SOS and I turned around
You were spitting out fiberglass
Still hot from the blaze
Afraid that your fire escape would smolder for days
Don't part it out
Take it all
That's efficiency to me
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