Someone lit the couch on fire
And lined heads on the windowsill

God protects his wifi with a password
But gives out free coffee and cookies
To the people who listen to him

Parking lot stoop sitting
Dressed in black, looking back
Anyone can run me over

You are god and I'm a table
Weighed down by the heavy red book
Tuning my guitar and summoning strangers
Playing off-key in a room swimming with caffeine
The aisles are too narrow to let the
Broken pass through

It's all part of the plan

Church kids fight to say hello
Push push shove hi
Push push hi

All of their songs sound the same

It's all part of the plan