| He looked beneath his shirt today
|
| There was a wound in his flesh so deep and wide
|
| From the wound a lovely flower grew
|
| From somewhere deep inside
|
| He turned around to face his mother
|
| To show her the wound in his breast that burned like a brand
|
| But the sword that cut him open
|
| Was the sword in his mothers hand
|
| Every day another miracle
|
| Only death will tear us apart
|
| To sacrifice a life for yours
|
| Id be the blood of the lazarus heart
|
| The blood of the lazarus heart
|
| Though the sword was his protection
|
| The wound itself would give him power
|
| The power to remake himself at the time of his darkest hour
|
| She said the wound would give him courage and pain
|
| The kind of pain that you cant hide
|
| From the wound a lovely flower grew
|
| From somewhere deep inside
|
| Every day another miracle
|
| Only death will keep us apart
|
| To sacrifice a life for yours
|
| Id be the blood of the lazarus heart
|
| The blood of the lazarus heart
|
| Birds on the roof of my mothers house
|
| Ive no stones that chase them away
|
| Birds on the roof of my mothers house
|
| Will sit on my roof some day
|
| They fly at the window, they fly at the door
|
| Where does she get the strength to fight them anymore
|
| She counts all her children as a shield against the pain
|
| Lifts her eyes to the sky like a flower in the rain
|
| Every day another miracle
|
| Only death will keep us apart
|
| To sacrifice a life for yours
|
| Id be the blood of the lazarus heart
|
| The blood of the lazarus heart |