Now I rush to the finger 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 first 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 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 & 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
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