Helen Reddy

Helen Reddy
She’s counting radio towers as she travels through the darkness
The way she did when she was young
She’s watching red lights flashing, out to the hidden horizon
She feels the air is full of songs, crackling with songs. Static and songs
She’s counting radio towers as she travels through the darkness

The romance of radio at night
She’s watching red lights flashing, out to the hidden horizon
She’s calmer for those flashing lights, that tail off till they’re out of sight
That tail off till they’re out of sight

As the door to their room closes, another door then opens, to a world where only they exist These nights aren’t made for sleeping. These nights are made for melting
Where does she end and he begin? What is her and what is him?
Where does she end and he begin?

As the door to their room closes, another door then opens, to a world where they can live their dreams
These nights aren’t made for sleeping. These nights are made for melting
Made for going to extremes. How they love these motel scenes
Hotel and motel scenes

A young girl listens to Helen Reddy, sees herself as Angie Baby
Her side her radio never leaves
A signal sails across the water, a broadcast from Louisiana
Jamaica picks up New Orleans
Jamaica’s listening in. Jamaica’s listening in

She’s counting radio towers as she travels through the darkness
The way she did when she was young