Terminal - Jon Foreman

The doctor says I’m dying

I die a little every day

But he’s got no prescription that could

Take my death away

The doctor says it don’t look so good

It’s terminal

Some folks die in offices one day at a time

They could live a hundred years

But their soul’s already dying

Don’t let your spirit die before your body does

We’re terminal, we’re terminal

We’re terminal

We are, we are the living souls

With terminal hearts, terminal parts

Flickering like candles, shimmering like candles

We’re fatally flawed, we’re fatally flawed

Whenever I start cursing at the traffic or the phone

I remind myself that we have all got cancer in our bones

Don’t yell at the dead, show a little respect

It’s terminal, it’s terminal

«Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust

For our days here are like grass

We flourish like a flower of the field

The wind blows and it is gone

And its place remembers it no more

Naked we came from our mother’s womb

And naked we will depart

For we bring nothing into the world

And we take nothing away

For we bring nothing into the world

And we take nothing away»

We are, we are the living souls

With terminal hearts, terminal parts

Flickering like candles, shimmering like candles

We’re fatally flawed in the image of God