God came down
And touched the sky.
Nobody told you that
Angels could fly.
And on the night
That our savior died,
There wasn't
A dry eye.

And now sitting in this room,
It's apparent to me
And apparent to you
That nobody feels
Like they used to.

What should I write,
And why do I cry?
C'mon weary eyes,
You don't have to lie.
I'm taking this one on my own
I hope you know it's a lonely road.

As I cry alone,
In this tiny home
The voices tell me
There's a party
To - night.
That I will
Have
To - fight.

Waking up in the morning,
It's a shock to me
There's no blood left
For me to see.
Dried up ink
And poetry lines.

What should I write,
And why do I cry?
C'mon weary eyes
You don't have to lie.
I'm taking this one on my own
I hope you know it's a lonely road.