Spotlight on the Victor by Conrad Keely Lyrics

[Verse]
It's all boring, boring talk
Separated by long dead rock
These are the remnants of the radio
The one we used to know and love
And in the veils of a dream
A static rises unbeknownst to me
It means I have to spend the rest of my life
Searching through stations on forgotten lines
Looking for any kind of heart and soul
And in that long gone world
A phantom signal of a vanished hope
The dying spectre of a radio
Sends out an S.O.S. to anyone
It might be time to face the cold, hard facts
This instant culture never got much better than that
Within the cold eyes of our cameras
Our every thought spread open to the world
This is our radio
A dying symbol of a former world
Our lives are now just part of the show
We send a message to the rest of the world
That we have all become radios
Our private life just a porn to be consumed
And then we bang on about how
Our minds are read by some benign, well-meaning power
We are all victims of the radio
The same one we used to know and love