Radio Tears

I can hear your radio tears,
Wrestling down your sorry cheeks,
I know how they change careers,
Every time my piano speaks

I’m so high I’m on air right now,
This vacuum amplifies your sniveling sorrow,
A microphone interrogates my larynx somehow,
I’ll see you someday you can see me tomorrow

A duel between my keys and your brood,
My piano is a battlefield for the telepathic,
You can’t discourage when you’re not in the mood,
And the referees are all so very apathetic

I hit a minor and your heart finds the Atlantic,
You’re scuba-diving in memories blindfolded,
A major note now and it’s suddenly romantic,
The origami albatross is neatly unfolded

There is no guarantee for your defective emotions,
Your lies can’t change truth’s short-wave frequency,
And I won’t ever be the cause of unhealthy commotions,
Not even if you’re in a dire emergency

May the lord be praised for this revenge benign,
May you recall what’s forgotten when memory disappears,
And these slaves of slaves of injustice divine,
May they never force you to shed radio tears.



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