from "Stagepass"(Live at the Agora), 1976, EMI Records Group

With thirteen lovers I hid beneath the covers

got staples in my hands for my time

With the radio low so the folks don't know

I proceed with my passion of crime...

And though somewhat obtuse, I've been told this abuse

will more than likely make me go blind

But with a heart that's aching, it's a risk worth taking

'cause true love, they say, is so hard to find...



Why can't she see what she's doing to me

If that bandstand girl only was here

And I'm living the dream, getting lost on the screen,

doing Presley in front of the mirror...

Hanging around, getting high on the sounds

of the ladies and electric guitars

Cross a double yellow line to who knows where

with six sets of glory a night in some bar...



(CHORUS:)

Midwest midnight

Ten thousand watts of holy light

from my radio so clear...

Bodies glistening, everybody's listening

as the man plays all the hits that you want to hear.



With a will to believe, and my songs on my sleeve

If only I'd known from the start

Such a sensitive toy, for a suburban boy

who believed he was suffering for art...

But then something went wrong

and he watched as his songs

met a slow death of silence, but worse

He was taken to task, by some critic who asked,

"Do you write the words or lyrics first..."





(CHORUS)



BRIDGE:

I hear 'em callin':

"Boy, you should be grateful

to get your foot inside the door.

You know there's thousands out there

who would take your place...

This attitude of yours, my son,

well, it lacks the due respect...

You bite the hand that feeds you--

even if you're never fed..."



Chasing the fame keeps 'em all in the game

But money's still the way they keep score

And nobody told you that you would get older

strung out like some Avenue whore...

Waiting release, getting shot through the grease,

some L.A. madonna's maligned

And New York's calling just to see if you've heard

'bout the great English band

they just signed....



Take me back to...

(CHORUS:)

Midwest midnight

Ten thousand watts of holy light

from my radio so clear...

Bodies glistening, is anybody listening?

Does the man still play all the hits that you want to hear...









--words & music by M. Gee/Michael Stanley