| Do you remember the moment
|
| You finally did something about it?
|
| When the kick of the drum
|
| Lined up with the beat of your heart?
|
| Stuck in a corn maze
|
| With only a transistor radio
|
| Making paths with the sound waves
|
| And echoes in ol' Baba O
|
| Yeah we heard you, Pete
|
| Real loud and clear on the last one
|
| And we were pulling for you
|
| A thousand times a day
|
| It don’t take much
|
| To sound like a sleeping prophet
|
| When your misery sounds so much like ours
|
| So far away, so far away, so far away
|
| Do you remember the night
|
| We finally heard something about it?
|
| When the kick of the drum
|
| Went off like artillery fire?
|
| And if you’re wondering, man
|
| Well yeah, I will say that it got to us
|
| The shrapnel flew right through the screen from the Comedy Hour
|
| Yeah we heard you, Keith
|
| Real loud and clear on the last one
|
| I must have listened to you
|
| A thousand times a day
|
| And for one short breath
|
| It sounds like the world is ending
|
| Exploding in space and beginning again
|
| So far away, so far away, so far away
|
| Yeah we heard you, Pete
|
| Real loud and clear on the last one
|
| And we were pulling for you
|
| A thousand times a day
|
| It don’t take much
|
| To sound like a sleeping prophet
|
| When your misery sounds so much like ours
|
| So far away, so far away, so far away |