So I locked myself in my room, and turned up the speakers,
And played a song about an endless summer.
So I hum along to unchained melodies, and sing my greatest hits, like a b-side from an old LP.

These gatefold worlds open up to me, and I climb inside of them, and they keep me company.
But these headphones weren't made for two, so there's no room in these grooves for you.

Funeral, cease to begin, summerteeth, pinkerton.
I'm wide awake and it's morning, at folsom prison.
Stay what you are, I was trying to describe you to someone.

Stop gathering dust, if I drop the needle, will you sing for us?

The earth is not a cold dead place, the best of BB King.
Come on die young, the immortal Otis Redding.
Nevermind, nevermind, nevermind. Bleed American.
Graceland, I'm going to graceland. 40 hour train back to Penn.

If you keep on spinning, then I'll keep on singing.

Greetings from Asbury Park, darkness on the edge of town.
The wild, the innocent, the E Street shuffle, the river, born to run.
Left and leaving, transatlanticism.
100 broken windows, the world won't listen.

The world won't listen.
The world won't listen.
The world won't listen.
Sing me to sleep, sing me to sleep, I'm tired and I want to go to bed.