The Lords Song

An eye drips, a heavy heart
A heavy heart, a heavy heart
Something waiting, winged
A heavy heart, a heavy heart
A heavy heart wanting
For the chorus to sing itself
For the meandering years to fade

I cry about it, I cry about it
I cry about it because I want to
I cry about it, I cry about it
I cry about it because I want to
If one could hear the song
The sampled voice of God
Singing cry

A will stirs a stolen arc
A stolen arc, a stolen arc
Cannons, trumpets swell for
A falling arch, a falling arch
A falling arch stolen
With the words beneath my pillowed head
I am staring at the ceiling again

I cry about it, I cry about it
I cry about it because I want to
I cry about it, I cry about it
I cry about it because I want to
If one could hear the song (if one could hear the song)
The sterile voice of God (the sterile voice of God)
Singing cry on, cry on

Cry on, cry on
Cry on, cry on
Cry on, cry on
Cry on, cry on

I cry about it, I cry about it
I cry about it because I want to
I cry about it, I cry about it
I cry about it because I want to