Wake up
We’re on the radio
A shortwave of storms blowing down the barn
I woke up I took the cup
I drank the cup I tore it up
You look scared but
You shouldn’t be afraid
Of course there’s pain in this something
that we made
I looked up I looked you up
I held you up I carried you
Leave off your charms leave off your frills
We’re not making songs for suburban little girls
Or we are and we’re much too sincere
And we’ll pay for all the trouble that we carry
Wake up
We’re on the radio
A shortwave of storms blowing down the barn
I woke up I took the cup
I drank the cup I tore it up

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