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