somebody shot the dj

[withelightsout]

so this is radio nowhere?
with a broken, empty dial.
empty airwaves and old
worn out players, fading in the aisles

broadcasting nothing
worth hearing, through the
spaces of our lives,
making life so fruitless,
so full of lies

radio anywhere isn't
it either, always running to
somewhere, not where you
wanna be

empty airwaves and pointless
existences, mad rushes for the door,
opening the road to nowhere
closing out the show

making headway in a
nosedive, straight for the ground.
once you hit bottom,
no one's left around

mic up the dj, he's
spinning out of control.
broadcasting madness,
straight from his soul.

there's a hole in his soul
and he doesn't know where
dj's nuts bro, dj's not
even there

somebody played him in the booth,
oh shit. no, it couldn't be.
he spun himself out,
thats the way it's
s'posed to be.