| In a motel room, with the Bible out
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| Combing scripture for answers about what’s happening now
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| I can’t believe my eyes, and I just don’t trust my ears
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| But I’ve heard a man can always come find some solace here
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| Lord, I know that we don’t talk
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| Often at all anymore
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| But desperate folks do desperate things
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| So I’m stapling this note to your door
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| Please: turn the ship around
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| And lock the course in place
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| And keep the train tracks nailed to the ground
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| But pull the emergency brakes
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| I’ve lost my faith in man
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| Just like I once lost faith in you
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| And I’ve been covering all kinds of ground
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| Thinkin' hard 'bout what else I could lose
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| And I know how I look, to come crawling back
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| Acting like you owe me proof
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| But this is bigger than me
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| And I think it’s bigger than you too
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| So if this gets to you
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| If you ever come home
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| Just know I won’t be awaiting the postman
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| I will not be glued to my phone
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| I’ll know a change has come
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| I’ll know that you exist
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| When all our bombs stop exploding
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| And when all of our landmines are stripped
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| When we stop blowing up strangers' houses
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| And making orphans of innocent kids
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| And people stop thinking the world’s theirs for the taking
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| Cause your will once told them it is
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| 'Til then, I’m gonna shake my head
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| I’m gonna bite my tongue
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| When people tell me, «Have faith and be patient
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| We’re waiting for God to show up.»
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| 'Til then, it’s one more skeptical song
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| But I’ll be glad as hell if you come prove me wrong |