Hearts aren't really our guides.
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We are truly alone.
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'Cause God ain't up in the sky,
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Holding together our bones.
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Remember we used to speak.
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Now I'm starting to think,
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Your voice was really my own,
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Bouncing off the ceiling back to me.
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God, this can't be.
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God, this can't be,
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God, could it be that all we see is it?
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Come down, heaven.
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Won't you come down?
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Won't you cut through the clouds?
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Won't you come down?
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Oh, my heaven, why do you have doors to close?
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Do you have clouds to stop his voice on the way down?
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God, this can't be.
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God, this can't be,
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God, could it be that all we see is it?
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God, does grace reach to this side of madness?
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'Cause I know this can't be,
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The great peace we all seek.
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Come down, heaven.
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Won't you come down?
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Won't you cut through the clouds?
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Won't you come down?
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Contact
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| As Cities Burn |
