There's a story about us on the radio.
I hear it blare everywhere I go.
Or is it in my imagination, 
That catchy, sad song on every station?
Is it only my own pain in heavy rotation?

Who made our sorrow sound so sweet, 
Hooking my heart, animating my feet, 
Turning sleepless night to endorphin burst, 
Spinning all the best feelings out of the worst?

I'm dancing to the soundtrack of my grief, 
Spilling out tears of relief, 
Remembering you with joy, 
Thanks to this honey-voiced boy--
Or is it a she, redeeming me?

Falling in love felt more like rising.
The future looked so tantalizing.
Falling out again was bitterly surprising; 
It had seemed like a one-way climb.


But even a hit song has to slip back down the charts, 
Having soothed it's share of shattered hearts.
We endure the stops so we can embrace the starts, 
Highs and lows smoothed out by time--
Cruel, merciful time.

There's a story about us on the radio, 
Who arranged or produced or wrote or mixed it, I don't know.
I guess I like to pretend it came from me, 
That I made something beautiful out of our misery.

I'm dancing kinda slow and kinda fast, 
Savoring and burying my past, 
Closing my eyes to take in the view
That this singer has opened of me and you.
He or she is redeeming me, 
With a story about us.