Текст песни Church Doors And Skeptics

I found you holding a nail and a fragile piece of paper. What a lovely plot, nail it to a door. Two years later with a bag and a bowl. What a firm grip. Whats true to you? You found me holding a record sending calls to your hand "Let me speak to someone sitting close" Two years later with the cancer in my heart. What a self-righteous act of youth. I hope you(we) figure this out. There's blood on our shoes and we love this room. Our brothers hands on our heads, a warm touch and an honest prayer.