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All Get Out - Church Doors And Skeptics Lyrics

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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.

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