"You speak to me in radio-waves,
in transmissions cracked asunder
by intermittent storms and thunder,
but I'm just one of your fashion-slaves
and I never see you.

You come to me in limousines
but, high above you, jet-planes roar
just when you're speeding to my door.
looking like you do in magazines,
and I still don't hear you.

You open a door behind me
but lightning kills electricity
and you stand there in obscurity,
wondering how you'll ever find me,
and somehow I can feel you... here."

03/23/2008