You and me we see, what we see
And all I see here is
And all I see here is love
You say, this can't be done, this can't be real
I don't see, see anyone
Behind every ghostly care there's a sinner's prayer
Creeping up the stairs, so just sit right there

All my friends

Cooking hope in my stove
With a bitter taste on my tongue
I need a reason to fake at all
I need a reason with hands that are six feet tall
If you were God instead
No skins and bones
No broken head
With a hand like a bear-shaped claw
I need a reason to reason with

All my cares have become my greatest fears
And the day is getting louder,
It's getting louder in my ears

And I'm sorry, I'm sorry
I swear I'm not sorry
I've been cutting down trees long enough to see
That nobody is around

And my paper thin courage
Is only what

Oh my brother, I have cheated you again
I saw this fire coming
So I buried my head into the sand
And the war on the fire is getting hot
I'm gathering hate, it's boiling over my cooking pot

Wolves come out, and my pride is spilling over
On this piece of heaven, that's on

Take this time to come together and hold hands
Share the fear we have of impressing each other
Put down the fingers we don't use
To build strong houses on the rocks

Oh baby, you'll never live this down
Oh baby, you'll never where this crown

My hands are so tired from<

The tip of my tongue
Is still bleeding from
What I said wrong
To you last night
And the fire from my lungs
Is still burning up your
God-shaped heart

You think it's gone
Baby you can't be any more wrong
And it's all coming back,
It's all coming back to yo

In the morning my sun will rise
And my eyes will help my brother see
Straight to you
And the preacher's daughter has made it clear
She's not coming back home

All the people talk about it
And tell me exactly where you're wrong
All the people talk about it
Impress

Mamma' saw me fall
Disappointed and all
I hope that she's not tired
Cause we've got a lot to do
Satan's down the hall
Phone in hand and all
I hope that he's not tired

All my saints have a real good hold
On what we call stoned, and baby it's no joke
And I swe

I am a preacher's wife and I have cheated
I've nagged and only got what I want
I am a stone, I am an afternoon snow
Trampled on, and turned brown by the feet
That walk me so

My branches hang out far with tons of leaves
But my roots, they only go
They only go skin de

I've got hair down to the floor
I've got strength you've never seen before
I'm better off just lying
I'm better off just bowing down,
But my neck is sore

Peel off your face and hand it over
I'll be gone for days if you have to know

To see at all can't be worth it<