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