That all through the land,
Deejays and hosts were speaking to fans.
From Houston to Detroit and L.A. to Manhattan
Radio waves were rippling through the night sky like satin.
The days had grown shorter, the time had grown near
for deejays to congratulate their programming peers.
The stress of the "Fall Book" was rapidly fading,
As stations anticipated what might be their ratings.
If Program Directors had done their jobs well,
And Sales Directors had make great strides to sell,
There was reason to believe that the time they took, Would pay off handsomely in the Fall Arbitron book.
In the meantime most shows would be on Xmas break,
With part-time employees doing their best full-time "fake."
And where no body was able to fill up the air,
Automation would do it 'cause computers don't care.
Software and hardware work 24/7
And the cost puts management in Seventh Heaven.
There's AM and FM, and XM and Sirius,
Streaming and cell phone, I'm almost delirious!
There's radio on TV - radio in my car,
I can watch Don Imus and then Bill Maher!
Radio on my phone, radio in my home.
When will they implant a radio in my bones?
As I was pondering the state of the biz,
What do I hear but some Industry whiz!
A CEO appeared with a white beard and grin
Donning a suit made of red and a glass full of gin.
"I'm celebrating," he happily said,
"The Radio Industry is anything but dead,"
"Our demise has been predicted time and again,"
"Taunting our critics gives me a big head!"