Wake Me Up
Billie Joe Armstrong & Elvis Costello Lyrics

I've got this phosphorescent portrait of gentle Jesus meek and mild
I possess an illuminated image of Jesus Christ, characterized as gentle, meek, and mild-mannered.

I've got this harlot that I'm stuck with carrying another man's child
I am burdened with a prostitute who is pregnant with a child that is not mine.

The solitary star announcing vacancy burnt out as we arrived
Upon our arrival, the only star that signified a vacancy rapidly vanished into obscurity.

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 They asked for ammunition, acts of contrition and small alms
If the authorities knew we lived, they would have forcibly returned us to our point of origin. Instead, they extended a welcome, requesting both ammunition and donations as a form of penance for our entry.

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 urge you to rouse me from my slumber, using either physical force or affection. I cannot continue living in this state; there must be an improved situation available.

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
My mind conjures up an invisible radio, and I switch channels frequently. In addition, I cool the TV with my AC unit to prevent the device from malfunctioning.

And everything that I thought fanciful or mocked as too extreme Must be family entertainment here in the strange land of my dreams
All that I once deemed fanciful or ridiculous must be suitable for family viewership in this strange realm of my dreams.

And I'm practicing my likeness of St. Francis of Assisi And if I hold my hand outstretched A little bird comes to me
I am emulating Saint Francis of Assisi, and when I extend my arm, a small bird approaches me.

And I might recite a small prayer If I ever said them I lay down on an iron frame And found myself in Bedlam
I may utter a brief prayer, although it would be rare for me to do so. Once, I reclined upon an iron contraption, and next, I was in Bedlam.

Stepping on the fingers that were stretching through the bars Wailing echoes down the corridors
As I walked, I placed my feet upon the fingers that were reaching out from their cells. Consequently, the sound of wailing echoed throughout the hallways.

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 implore you to rouse me from my slumber using either physical force or affection. I cannot continue living in this state; there must be an improved situation available.

They've got this scared and decorated girl strapped to the steel trunk of a 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
They have bound a frightened, ornamented girl to the metallic trunk of a Mustang, driving her along a path where traitorous individuals have been hanged, and the stars continue to shine. They dangled flags and other fabrics along a colored cord of twine. They forcibly pulled that injured and deeply wounded heart along the path to Palestine.

Someone went off muttering, he mentioned thirty pieces Easter saw a slaughtering, each wrapped in bloodstained fleeces
Some individuals left muttering, and one mention of thirty sections was audible. Easter overheard a slaughter, with every individual swaddled in blood-soaked material.

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
My thoughts swayed towards revenge, but I refrained and offered no opposition. Despite believing to be far from where I resided, it was also not very far.

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
I implore you to rouse me from my slumber using either physical force or affection. I cannot continue living in this state; there must be an improved situation available.

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
The player piano played the melody, "Life Goes On" while the Ringtone alerted us, emitting a sound resembling "Jerusalem." We are in a melancholic state where the indigent wallow. We've put to rest all the blameless individuals, and now we must also bury revenge.

Wake me up, wake me up, wake me up, wake me up, wake me up There must be something better than this
I implore you to rouse me from my slumber using either physical force or affection. I cannot continue living in this state; there must be an improved situation available.

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
I appeal to both God the father and son and the empowering force of both gasoline and firearms. I implore you to rouse me from my slumber using either physical force or affection.