what it is that endures

shadows cast by the sun on the white ceiling
the stillness of the air the pleasant day
the radio tells a story with warmest feeling

no way to say that this is not plain dealing
the action of our choice the noblest way
shadows cast by the sun on the white ceiling

gone back behind the cloud the senses reeling
ask the bright moment to forever stay
the radio tells a story with warmest feeling

the voices on the telephone they were appealing
for someon to resolve the darkest play
shadows cast by the sun on the white ceiling

we hear the names we wonder if by stealing
off in the quiet we'll see them in array
the radio tells a story with warmest feeling

made by our histories the shining surface peeling
to show the dead who tumbled once in hay
shadows cast by the sun on the white ceiling
the radio tells a story with warmest feeling