Volunteer DJ
Fishboy
GENRE
I’m a volunteer DJ
At a radio station
Whose transmission stretches
Only five miles
And though I agree the form’s obsolete
I feel that I need to perform with style
Simultaneous playlists
In a red spiral notebook
Of internet treasures
And crate digging gems
And sad as it seems
They would feel more complete
If I had both the time
And means to hear all
That there is
But I may never know
No, I may never know
And my favorite album
I found in the basement
Of a gently used bookstore
A local releasе
And twenty years since
I’m still not convincеd
That an album exists that means that much to me
They were mid-70’s rockers
They vanish completely
But I own all of their records
The whole discography
And don’t get me wrong:
It’s okay that they’re gone
But I feel like they stopped
Before reaching their peak
And we may never know
No, we may never know
And in the bookstore last night
I saw the singer of the band stand in line
I must admit I didn’t dare waste his time
I stood and watched as he was selling LPs
To the register teen
Somewhat relieved and impressed
Fifty dollars, fifty dollars at best
"And a baby is crying in the back bedroom,"
I write in my notebook
As she gets rocked to sleep
"Someday you’ll find the best songs of all time
May they be priceless and worthless
Like all the best things."
At a radio station
Whose transmission stretches
Only five miles
And though I agree the form’s obsolete
I feel that I need to perform with style
Simultaneous playlists
In a red spiral notebook
Of internet treasures
And crate digging gems
And sad as it seems
They would feel more complete
If I had both the time
And means to hear all
That there is
But I may never know
No, I may never know
And my favorite album
I found in the basement
Of a gently used bookstore
A local releasе
And twenty years since
I’m still not convincеd
That an album exists that means that much to me
They were mid-70’s rockers
They vanish completely
But I own all of their records
The whole discography
And don’t get me wrong:
It’s okay that they’re gone
But I feel like they stopped
Before reaching their peak
And we may never know
No, we may never know
And in the bookstore last night
I saw the singer of the band stand in line
I must admit I didn’t dare waste his time
I stood and watched as he was selling LPs
To the register teen
Somewhat relieved and impressed
Fifty dollars, fifty dollars at best
"And a baby is crying in the back bedroom,"
I write in my notebook
As she gets rocked to sleep
"Someday you’ll find the best songs of all time
May they be priceless and worthless
Like all the best things."
Related songs
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