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(hm-mmm) I wrote a line
about a dusty road
And pictured stage lights
through a heavy load
Just wishing on a wooden box of strings
That I could feel the joy the music brings
Oh, close your eyes and feel the wooden floor
We are stepping through a brand new open door
(ooh yeah)
Singing it true, making it real
Finding the words for the things we feel
We call the music from the empty air
And suddenly the song is standing there
Now every highway
has a chord to play
We dream a crowd
and watch them sway
With every heart that beats along the line
We turn the static into something fine
We call the music from the air
And now it's standing there