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.. In a small red toolbox
Our station becomes a condition of all possible sounds
So that everything is a song
And there's no commercial interruption
And no fund raising drives..
Disc jockeys..
Now the disc jockeys gather around
And speak of their own certainty abound the power station
If this is true, I thought then, what will I think
Will I stay but rather I would get away
I'm scared that I won't find a thing
And afraid that I'll turn out to be alone, but I..
I have to learn, have to try, have to trust I have to cry
Have to see, have to know that I can be myself
And if I could I would stay
And if they're not, not in my way, yeah
I'll stay, and then
I'll grow up to be just like you