Radio's blasting
I hear they're broadcasting a signal
we all should hear
They're sending a message,
it's fighting the static
I'm listening, I'm quiet, I'm here
Soon everything will be magic, my dear
Soon everything will be magic, my dear
The birds are directing, the traffic below
in patters ignoring the light
In this motion I'm static, both hopeful and tragic
Eyes up, eyes open and blind
waiting
traffic
signal
should
sending
nearly
living
listening
broadcasting
birds
heard
really
message
blasting
below
magic
before
motion
anything
smoke
cause
going
believe
changing
directing
blind
everything
distance
quiet
ignoring
fighting
static
premonition
finally
tragic
patters
alone
light
nothing
hopefully
hopeful
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