The Canadian prog-rock band that have been going for yonks. Great trio. A Futurama reference goes like this: Fry says “All right! It’s Saturday night, I have no date, a two liter bottle of Shasta and my all Rush mix tape, let’s rock!”
A boy alone, so far from home,
Endless rooftops from my window.
I felt the gloom of empty rooms
On rainy afternoons.
Sometimes in confusion,
I felt so lost and disillusioned,
Innocence gave me confidence
To go up against reality.
All the same we take our chances,
Laughed at by time,
Tricked by circumstances.
Plus ca change,
Plus c’est la meme chose
The more that things change,
The more they stay the same.
Now I’ve gained some understanding
Of the only world that we see.
Things that I once dreamed of
Have become reality.
These walls that still surround me
Still contain the same old me,
Just one more who’s searching for
A world that ought to be.
The Spirit Of Radio
Begin the day with a friendly voice
A companion unobtrusive
Plays the song that’s so elusive
And the magic music makes your morning mood
Off on your way, hit the open road
There is magic at your fingers
For the Spirit ever lingers
Undemanding contact in your happy solitude
Invisible airwaves crackle with life
Bright antennae bristle with the energy
Emotional feedback on timeless wavelength
Bearing a gift beyond price, almost free
All this machinery making modern music
Can still be open hearted
Not so coldly charted
It’s really just a question of your honesty, yeah
One likes to believe in the freedom of music
But glittering prizes and endless compromises
Shatter the illusion of integrity
For the words of the profits were written on the studio wall
And echoes with the sounds of salesmen