| Standing at the edge of the world | |
| I still fail to see what's out there for me | |
| Screaming at the top of my lungs | |
| Is there anybody listening? | |
| We're all emotional radios | |
| Human aerials in oblivion | |
| Calling all stations until transmission ends | |
| I am here | |
| Standing in the swing of the airwaves | |
| Circling the square I was locked in | |
| Step right in, it feels like being born again | |
| Waving down the drain through static and chatter | |
| Peel away the shame and noise will surrender | |
| Disconnection failure and no consolation | |
| When nothing could avail your misinterpretation | |
| Link the dots between my dashes and your silences | |
| Your time is running out as you are running out of promises | |
| Read between the lines | |
| We're all emotional radios | |
| Human aerials in oblivion | |
| Calling all stations until transmission ends | |
| I still hear the chokes on your shotguns | |
| Your back's to the wall we are all a loss of signal | |
| An oblivious call to all stations until transmission ends | |
| I am here | |
| Standing in the swing of the airwaves | |
| Circling the square I was locked in | |
| Step right in, it feels like being born again |
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