| I’ve got this phosphorescent portrait of gentle Jesus meek and mild
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| I’ve got this harlot that I’m stuck with carrying another man’s child
 | 
| The solitary star announcing vacancy burnt out as we arrived
 | 
| They’d throw us back across the border if they knew that we survived
 | 
| And they were surprised to see us
 | 
| So they greeted us with palms
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| And they asked for ammunition
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| Acts of contrition and small alms
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| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up with a slap or a kiss
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up, there must be something better than this
 | 
| I’ve got this imaginary radio, and I’m punching up the dial
 | 
| I’ve got the A.C. trained on the T.V. so it won’t blow up in my eye
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| And everything that I thought fanciful or mocked as too extreme
 | 
| Must be family entertainment here in the strange land of my dreams
 | 
| And I’m practicing my likeness
 | 
| Of St. Francis of Assisi
 | 
| And if I hold my hand outstretched
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| A little bird comes to me
 | 
| And I might recite a small prayer
 | 
| If I ever said them
 | 
| I lay down on an iron frame
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| And found myself in Bedlam
 | 
| Stepping on the fingers that were stretching through the bars
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| Wailing echoes down the corridors
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| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up with a slap or a kiss
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up, there must be something better than this
 | 
| They’ve got this scared and decorated girl strapped to the steel trunk of a
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| Mustang
 | 
| They drove her down a cypress grove where traitors hang and stars still spangle
 | 
| They dangled flags and other rags along a colored thread of twine
 | 
| They dragged that bruised and purple heart along the road to Palestine
 | 
| Someone went off muttering, he mentioned thirty pieces
 | 
| Easter saw a slaughtering, each wrapped in bloodstained fleeces
 | 
| My thoughts returned to vengeance but I put up no resistance
 | 
| Though I seemed a long way from my home
 | 
| It really was no distance
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up with a slap or a kiss
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up, there must be something better than this
 | 
| And the player piano picks out «Life Goes On»
 | 
| The Ringtone rang out «Jerusalem»
 | 
| Into the pit of sadness
 | 
| Where the wretched plunge
 | 
| We’ve buried all the Innocents
 | 
| We must bury revenge
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up, wake me up, wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| There must be something better than this
 | 
| There must be something better than this
 | 
| There must be something better than this
 | 
| In the name of the Father and the Son
 | 
| In the name of Gasoline and a Gun
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up, wake me up
 | 
| Wake me up |