it s hard to remember days mornings lost in a chronic haze breath is fast and the trains are slow i barely feel it though all day long i fantasize in the dark behind other people s eyes and then they disappear words get lost in the atmosphere the truth i ll tell i ll tell the truth sixteen on a summer roof you ask for facts well i ll give you proof hot sun on skin that crimson dress too thin all winter up her woods i touched it it felt good all i want is my radio he speaks in a voice i know sounds like sand when the tide is low we kiss to that voice each night bathed in bare reactor light i cry when the morning comes count my blessings and my thumbs say thanks god for whatever comes and quickly cross my fingers all i want is a room somewhere far away from the chemo air and when i go my radio will play a melody that lingers  all i want is my radio station ninety nine point o the truth i ll tell i ll tell i ll tell the truth sixteen on a summer roof you ask for facts well i ll give you proof here s the truth 