Sliver of sundown, glimmer of daylight Running in place with trembling knees Vision of lightning, vision of sunrise Overlay worlds on the grid of our dreams And knock 'em all down With a last looming wave Black as old blood With a warm, steady rage And the crack of old bones Yankee go home Choking on signal, sucking on silence Sodium lights on the monument's face Radio London, Radio Cyprus Where the Lincolnshire poacher's shaking his cage He was sold for a lifeline, sold for a crown Singing an old lie down the repeater But the radio lapses, the radio dies The sky is a blank screen, an open receiver Summon an old sound, rattle to life Spin on an axis, fly into pieces In disarray Lie in disarray, disarray I need it, I need it, I need it