Begin the day with a friendly voice, [bad word] [bad word] Plays that song that's so elusive
And the magic music makes your morning mood.

Off on your way, hit the open road,
There is magic at your fingers
For the Spirit ever lingers,
Undemanding contact in your happy solitude.

Invisible airwaves crackle with life
Bright antenna bristle with the energy
Emotional feedback on timeless wavelength
Bearing a gift beyond price, almost free

All this machinery making modern music
Can still be open-hearted.
Not so coldly charted, it's really just a question
Of your honesty, yeah, your honesty.

One likes to believe in the freedom of music,
But glittering prizes and [bad word] Shatter the illusion of integrity.

For the words of the prophets were written on the studio wall,
Concert hall
And echoes with the sounds of salesmen. Of salesmen. Of salesmen.