Church Doors And Skeptics - All Get Out

I found you holding a nail and a fragile piece of paper

What a lovely plot, nail it to a door

Two years later with a bag and a bowl

What a firm grip, what’s true to you?

You found me holding a record sending calls to your hand

«Let me speak to someone sitting close»

Two years later with the cancer in my heart

What a self-righteous act of youth

I hope

I hope you

I hope

You figure it out, figure it out

There’s blood on our shoes

And we love this room

Our brothers hands on our heads

A warm touch and an honest prayer

I hope

I hope you

I hope

You figure it out, figure it out

I hope

I hope we

I hope

We figure it out, figure this out