| God of all things, god of small things, god of power and might
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| Did you really make the world in seven days and seven nights?
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| 'Cause I don’t know if you exist or if I even care
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| But when I lay me down to sleep, I’d like somebody there
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| 'Cause it’s hard to make sense of this all
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| And it gets harder with each passing day
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| But I believe in little things and things I cannot see
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| In science and the saints and all that stuff like gravity
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| Not that sentimental fairy tale to keep us in our place
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| 'Cause I have seen you here when no one else is looking
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| A calm and silent bliss
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| A calm and silent bliss
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| All your people do these days is argue, fuss and fight
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| Then they fight some more and wipe the blood and say, «At least we know we’re
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| right»
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| How foolishly, how foolishly all good things come undone
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| How silently, how silently, and now we all are done
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| But it’s hard to make sense of it all
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| And it gets harder with each passing day
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| But I believe in little things and things I cannot see
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| In science and the saints and all that stuff like gravity
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| Not some sentimental fairy tale to keep us in our place
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| 'Cause I have seen you here when no one else is watching
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| A strange and silent bliss
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| A strange and silent bliss
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| God of all things, god of small things, god of loss and hope
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| God of people struggling and people who can’t cope
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| Do you keep your blessings for the rich, the pious and their guns?
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| Or if you’re half the man I hope, you root for everyone
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| You root for everyone |