Hot Chip - Transmission

Radio, live transmission. Radio, live transmission. Listen to the silence, let it ring on. Eyes, dark grey lenses frightened of the sun. We would have a fine time living in the night, Left to blind destruction, Waiting for our sight. And we would go on as though nothing was wrong. And hide from these days we remained all alone. Staying in the same place, just staying out the time. Touching from a distance, Further all the time. Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio. Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio. Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio. Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio. Well I could call out when the going gets tough. The things that we've learnt are no longer enough. No language, just sound, that's all we need know, to synchronise love to the beat of the show. And we could dance. Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio. Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio. Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio. Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.