Laying replacements around the borders of our lives
Searching for a way to avoid answering the questions that I'm constantly asking myself
Or will the reason find my throat

I was a radio tower
And you were a static signal
As the air cleared it brought flowers
Though I still felt like winter

Hoping the static would sound enough like a fire to keep me warm

Under the radio tower
We have trashed all the flowers
They are rootless and broken
And I still feel like winter

Hoping the flowers will burn long enough to keep me warm