Antiques!
Every other sentiment's an antique
As obsolete as warships in the Baltic
I'm driving on a straight road it never alters
And the radio serenades but doesn't falter

You offer infrared instead of sun
You offer paper spoons and bubble gum

Late sky
Like an all night radio station
Without morning
Like stumbling on Pearl Harbor
Without warning

You offer infrared instead of sun
You offer bubble gum

You give me Faron Young, four in the morning
You give me Faron Young, four in the morning
Every mother's son's romantic
Every mother's son's frantic!

Late sky:
The sunset makes a fence out of the forest
But here I am with head inside the bonnet
I've lost just what it takes to be honest
You offer infrared instead of sun
You offer bubble gum

You give me Faron Young, four in the morning
You give me Faron Young, four in the morning
Forgive me Faron Young, four in the morning
Forgive me Faron Young, four in the morning