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SEEMS RADIO IS HERE TO STAY
Like wind, spontaneous; like storm, forthright.
The saying is, that difference of opinion makes the world go round.
And that’s a platitude you tip your hat to when you meet it on the street.
You’ll find, wherever viewpoints must be such-andsuch ... or else
And opinion is smuggled out like contraband,
In such a place the world stops short and goes around no more.
The world stands still because it is afraid to move.
And liberty’s convulsed for want of air.
Sound. — Thunder drum in ominously . . . build under Narrator. — The air we listen to must be as free as that we
breathe
Or there will rise such dissonance and such cacophony
As will stave in the eardrum.
Damn the very thought and stab it through ! There’ll be no muffing of the ear, no licking of the boot
In this America.
Come, now, you men who make our music!
Beat that out in harmonies for all to hear !
Music. — Spirited, martial passage.
Narrator. — Think hard upon these words which tumble toward
you through the night:
The race of man is shrewd and silly, brutal and benign
And full of sudden starts and tardy reckonings. One day, when all the menacing is done with And a man can wish another well across a borderline.
His speech will sweeten;
He will cast abroad such sentiments And should be radiated in the skies.
Seems radio is here to stay,
And granting this, grant further That these air lanes were marked out
By that same Architect who popped the stars in
S^9