You’re a smooth talker
With eyes like lightning
And the radio
I sing like our mother
Put away the hairbrush and maybe something you don’t know
I read it in the tabloids in a truck stop in a thunderstorm
You’re an escape artist
And the bathroom mirror
And the autograph seekers
You’ve imagined outside the door
Yes we love a statement
Is it true you’re not in your room
From the light out in the basement
We knew that there’d be trouble coming soon
Intuition
Mathematics
Invisible audience
Ten hit records
Listen through your tin can as the road cuts circulation to your tune
I fashion myself after you from my suicide electric puzzle
The greatest songs I’ll never hear from a band you started in your mind
Leave us hanging on your legend as you exit through the tape recorder
Reel to reel
Reel to reel
Reel to reel