Wake up Were 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 shouldnt be afraid Of course theres 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 Were not making songs for suburban little girls Or we are and were much too sincere And well pay for all the trouble that we carry Wake up Were 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
cup, shortwave, barn, tore, drank