There is an open channel and I want to be your brain little man
I hail you several times trying to make contact but like a downed
airplane or a lost post in the lunar desert I get nothing white noise
a thousand little creatures crawl across the screen and the hash
is so loud it knocks my emotional apple cart backwards dumping
me on the hardwood floor of despair I know there is an open channel
little man and I just want to be your brain I call to you again
and again like some sick war game nothing comes back
I know you've gone off the screen out of my life on to a better place
but I'll never know until I get there another channel left open
in the assigned frequency of a loved one's heart.