| YOU TURN ME ON, I'M A RADIO |
| I was driving across the burning desert When I spotted six jet planes Leaving six white vapor trails across the bleak terrain It was the hexagram of the heavens it was the strings of my guitar Amelia, it was just a false alarm The drone of flying engines Is a song so wild and blue It scrambles time and seasons if it gets thru to you Then your life becomes a travelogue Of picture-post-card-charms Amelia, it was just a false alarm People will tell you where they've gone They'll tell you where to go But till you get there yourself you never really know Where some have found their paradise Other's just come to harm Oh Amelia, it was just a false alarm I wish that he was here tonight It's so hard to obey His sad request of me to kindly stay away So this is how I hide the hurt As the road leads cursed and charmed I tell Amelia, it was just a false alarm A ghost of aviation She was swallowed by the sky Or by the sea, like me she had a dream to fly Like Icarus ascending On beautiful foolish arms Amelia, it was just a false alarm Maybe I've never really loved I guess that is the truth I've spent my whole life in clouds at icy altitude And looking down on everything I crashed into his arms Amelia, it was just a false alarm I pulled into the Cactus Tree Motel To shower off the dust And I slept on the strange pillows of my wanderlust I dreamed of 747s Over geometric farms Dreams, Amelia, dreams and false alarms |