Shortwave

Turning the dial past midnight Through the hiss between the bands A voice from somewhere far away Speaking words I almost understand The static has a texture Like rain on a metal roof Shortwave Shortwave Not looking for an answer Just proving the line still works Sending out a frequency Into the dark To see if the dark Sends anything back The radio was my father's Or someone's father, anyway A box of valves and patience Tuned to a world that used to stay Now every band is crowded With the silence in between Shortwave Shortwave Not looking for an answer Just proving the line still works Sending out a frequency Into the dark To see if the dark Sends anything back Somewhere on the other side Of all this interference Someone left their transmitter on Not talking, just Breathing into the mic And that's enough That's enough Turning the dial Past midnight The hiss between the bands