| Strike the ground
|
| There’s not a message in the sound
|
| Hold out your hands
|
| When your God’s not listening.
|
| Best believe, best believe
|
| You’ll be systematically
|
| Placed to die tomorrow
|
| With a taste, so sweet
|
| It could drain the sorrow, the sorrow.
|
| We’re living through your eyes
|
| But inside we start to die
|
| We count our losses.
|
| Strike the ground
|
| There’s not a message in the sound
|
| Hold out your hands
|
| When your God’s not listening
|
| The common ground of a modern day escape
|
| Is calling for the listening.
|
| You can’t pull your way
|
| Through the same situations
|
| Time and time again
|
| You place your pawns in straight lines
|
| Alone to buy time
|
| Will we find the end, find the end?
|
| We’re living through your eyes
|
| But inside we start to die
|
| We count our losses.
|
| Making the wrong moves
|
| Hoping you’ll make them right
|
| We raise our voices in time.
|
| Strike the ground
|
| There’s not a message in the sound
|
| Hold out your hands
|
| When your God’s not listening
|
| The common ground of a modern day escape
|
| Is calling for the listening.
|
| Where will you turn
|
| When your God has abandoned you?
|
| Where will you turn
|
| When he leaves you to die?
|
| Where will you turn
|
| When your God has abandoned you?
|
| Where will you turn
|
| When he leaves you to die?
|
| We pray for God
|
| Strip the structure
|
| Scratch it out
|
| We praise empty skies.
|
| Strike the ground
|
| There’s not a message in the sound
|
| Hold out your hands
|
| When your God’s not listening
|
| The common ground of a modern day escape
|
| Is calling for the listening.
|
| We’re living through your eyes
|
| But inside we start to die. |