
Let it sing, let it cry And roll out the carpets No such thing, you mustn’t pry All hail to another confession And it’s losing me Where have all the merrymakers gone? Where have all the merrymakers gone? Some people will surprise you with a real depth of feeling And others still may shock, shock, shock you with all that they’re revealing But one thing’s sure: there’s always more information than you ask for Ask for this Just enough knowledge to know I don’t know anything Anything, anything I don’t know Nobody likes what I like That’s how I like it Some things are personal, at least they should be Or is it too much, much to ask you just to maintain a little Maintain a little Maintain a little Maintain a little Maintain a little Maintain a little Take the cynical saint to the stake and you burn it It’s radio, it’s radio silence, silence It’s radio, it’s radio silence, silence It’s radio, it’s radio, radio silence It’s radio, it’s radio, radio silence It’s radio, it’s radio, radio silence It’s radio, it’s radio, radio silence
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