| I don’t believe in much of anything
|
| I threw that away when I found out
|
| Jesus never learned to sing
|
| I’ll wear the crown if you say that it fits
|
| You say my head has grown but it fits through the door
|
| And you think
|
| And you think I’m made of stone
|
| I’m chiseled out of brick
|
| I’m a vase that shatters
|
| Holding such beautiful things
|
| I’m made of stone
|
| I’m chiseled out of brick
|
| I believe in this
|
| I believe in this
|
| I believe in this
|
| I’m a machine
|
| I’m made of recycled clicks
|
| To keep you in line when you step out of time
|
| I rule with my iron fist
|
| I think about the plan the whole world wrote for us
|
| And sometimes it hurts
|
| Sometimes it hurts
|
| Sometimes it hurts
|
| When you think I’m made of stone
|
| I’m chiseled out of brick
|
| I’m a vase that shatters
|
| Holding such beautiful things
|
| I’m made of stone
|
| I’m chiseled out of brick
|
| I believe in this
|
| I believe in this
|
| I believe in this
|
| I believe in this
|
| Stoned in my room
|
| Yeah they would stone me in my sleep
|
| I learned to stare the way that he did
|
| The way that Jesus watched his sheep
|
| I do this to breathe into the choir
|
| I preach
|
| You know how it feels
|
| You know how it feels
|
| You know how it feels
|
| When I start to think you’re made of stone
|
| You’re chiseled out of brick
|
| You’re the vase that shatters
|
| Holding such a pitiful thing
|
| You’re made of stone
|
| You’re chiseled out of brick
|
| I still believe in this |