Somethin’ filled up my heart with nothin’, someone told me not to cry. But now that I’m older, my heart’s colder, and I can see that it’s a lie. Children wake up, hold your mistake up, before they turn the summer into dust. If the children don’t grow up, our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up. We’re just a million little god’s causin rain storms turnin’ every good thing to rust.
-Wake up, Arcade Fire-