Catching Moments in a Crowd of Voices

Don’t you know that God waters the crops of the wicked?
You’re a white rose in the garden of the wicked
Choked by thorns and brambles on all sides,
tended by slaves who don’t know their
names.
And they water the crops of the wicked.

You think God cares
if you were good enough for your country?
What makes your country good enough?
Give it up, it’s not why he likes us.
Get used to disappointment.

In their minds they cry “where is my
home country, far from this place? If only
my eyes could see ten thousand miles away.
Can my ancestors see me in this foreign land?”

Did you want to see me on some mountaintop?
You don’t need it.
Did you want to hear my voice in an empty room?
It wouldn’t make a difference.
You just want miracles, you’ve got no faith in me.
I’m not gonna heal your disease.

I consider these dreams nightmares, where we’re
still together, I swore that we would never speak
again because you never cared, never cared.
I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, but
so far you are so far away.

So far, damn, you’re so damn far away.

So far I’ve fallen now, how did I get so far gone?
So far I’ve fallen for every trick and into every pit.
In love I’ve fallen so far.
Oh, bring me back again.

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