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To: Climber who wrote (4078)	12/13/2002 6:55:49 AM
From: D. Long	Respond to of 6901

What's the deal with "Talk Radio" anyway? Where did all the MUSIC go? Clear Channel has swallowed it all. Now you don't have to change the station, because FM is all the same. Just a variety of idiots passing as DJs to break up the monotony. Derek@radioisdeadboo.hoo

To: Climber who wrote (4078)	12/13/2002 11:24:23 AM
From: LindyBill	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 6901

Where's the Wolfman Jack of today? I go back to over the border Mexico days, when they would blast you. I don't care if it rains or freezes, Long as I have my plastic Jesus Riding on the dashboard of my car, Through my trials and tribulations And my travels through the nation With my plastic Jesus I'll go far Plastic Jesus, plastic Jesus Riding on the dashboard of my car I'm afraid he'll have to go, His magnets ruin my radio And If I have a wreck, he'll leave a scar Riding through the thoroughfare, With his nose up in the air A wreck may be ahead, but he don't mind Trouble coming, he don't see, He just keeps his eyes on me And any other thing that lies behind Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus, Riding on the dashboard of my car Though the sun that shines on his back Makes him peel, chip, and crack A little patching keeps him up to par When pedestrians try to cross I let them know whose boss I never blow my horn or give them warning I ride all over town, Trying to run them down And it's seldom that they live to see the morning Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus Riding on the dashboard of my car His halo fits just right And I use it as a sight And they'll scatter or they'll splatter near and far When I'm in a traffic jam He don't care if I say Damn I can let all sorts of curses roll Plastic Jesus doesn't hear, For he has a plastic ear The man who invented plastic saved my soul Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus Riding on the dashboard of my car Once his robe was snowy white, Now it isn't quite so bright Stained by the smoke of my cigar If I weave around at night And the policemen think I'm tight They'll never find my bottle, though they ask Plastic jesus shelters me, For his head comes off, you see He's hollow and I use him for a flask Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus Riding on the dashboard of my car Ride with me and have a dram Of the blood of the Lamb Plastic jesus is a holy bar