Burn the witch We know where you live This is a low flying panic attack Stay in the shadows Cheer at the gallows This is a round up Sing a song on the jukebox that goes Red crosses on wooden doors And if you float you burn

Are you gonna play me, though, This song was never meant for the radio And I don't have time for a playlist How much will you pay me though? I get in forget the radio spin, I'm just doing my thing, I never had a playlist in my heart, oho Now I need an A

Bobby Sox, baby, I've got to let you go You've got a head full of nothin' But stage, screen and radio You chase autographs every night You write fan mail through the day You keep your great big head in the scrapbook Yes, and you throw the cookbook away

Copycat, copycat, copycat Copy everyone else Copy copy copy copy yourself Copy copy copy everyone else They had an accident and they never noticed anyway A lack of originality couldn't focus on the day So much for the radio everybody sounds the same

Yeah, she's the Yeah, she's the boss and I'm an old romantic doing favors, don't look good on paper But when she looks behind these eyes, girl I can see the psyche, and baby I like it Yeah, she's the Yeah, she's the, old romantic doing

As the cafe was closing On a warm summer night And Cathy was cleaning the spoons The radio played the hit parade And I hummed a long with the tune She asked me to change the station Said the song just drove her insane But it weren't just the music playing

Forget about your house of cards And I'll do mine Denial, denial Fall off the table Your ears should be burning I don't want to be your friend I just want to be your lover No matter how it ends No matter how it starts

There are barn doors And there are revolving doors Doors on the rudders of big ships We are revolving doors There are doors that open by themselves There are sliding doors And there are secret doors There are doors that lock And doors that don't

I can be messy I can be messy, yeah, I admit it Oh, no changin' Oh, no changin' I can be cruel sometimes, outta my mind Insecure and out the door I can be hard to handle Dance around the house with nothin' but the radio on I can get crazy, yeah, I admit

I remember those songs on the radio The jasmine, the wind in your hair Summer and smoke, diamonds and dust Go where you will, do what you must The promise was made, your word was enough We had dreams, visions and plans Into the night, out of our hands