Arcade Fire.

Something filled up
My heart with nothing.
Someone

Told me not to cry.

But now that I’m older,
My heart's colder,
And I can

see that it’s a lie.

Children, wake up.
Hold your mistake up,
Before they turn

The summer into dust.

If the children don’t grow up,
Our bodies get bigger but our hearts get harder.
We’re just a million little Gods causing rain storms

Turning every good thing to rust.

I guess we’ll just have to adjust.

With my lightning bolts a glowing
I can see where I am going to be
When the reaper he reaches

And touches my hand.