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On the second floor of number 304
Above a handbag store and the heavy roar
Of traffic rolling down the Holloway Road
A one-time bedroom housed the studio of Joe Meek
Where he flirted with the sound of another world
That Tin Pan Alley thought was too absurd
But miles of wire and recording tape
Brought fortune, fame, and no escape to Joe Meek
As he stirred up the sound of a hurricane
Joe Meek
Called upon forces from beyond the grave
Joe Meek
Suffered alone for his madness and pain
These were the only rewards that the hit parade held in store for Joe Meek
Joe Meek
The talented, the hopeful, the hopeless, and just plain starstruck climbed the stairs
Up to the birthplace of the hits in search of three minutes of eternity
In the homemade sound laboratory of Joe Meek
Where he stirred up the sound of a hurricane
Joe Meek
Called upon forces from beyond the grave
Joe Meek
Suffered alone for his madness and pain
The only rewards that the hit parade held in store for Joe Meek
Joe Meek
Joe Meek
Joe Meek
Joe Meek
Joe Meek
Joe Meek
Joe Meek
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