Brooklyn Radio (Low Level Flight)

This broken land of shattered times, with dim lit haze and crooked signs. Uneven streets, I've tried to walk this broken slang, that I've tried to talk. Turn off the lights turn on the radio come on come on and let them know We are the ones who run the show. Do what you want, make up your role It's time, last call Go home and take that fall. Turn off the lights, turn on the radio this Brooklyn My lost causes, my fallen dreams float in the East and drown my screams. The stigma breaks, release the pain the branches tall, one step further you fall. Turn off the lights turn on the radio come on come on and let them know We are the ones who run the show. Do what you want, make up your role It's time, last call Go home and take that fall. Turn off the lights, turn on the radio this Brooklyn I wish you'd come in, let the water wash away. I wish you'd stay, don't let go and float away. Turn off the lights turn on the radio come on come on and let them know We are the ones who run the show. Do what you want, make up your role It's time, last call Go home and take that fall. Turn off the lights, turn on the radio this Brooklyn Turn off the lights turn on the radio come on come on and let them know We are the ones who run the show. Do what you want, make up your role It's time, last call Go home and take that fall. Turn off the lights, turn on the radio this Brooklyn