I remember all of those Sundays
And Mondays
After we rose our hands
To the Good One we loved

We'd shout like villagers
As if to seek some escape
But the blue and silver lines
All closed down our brains

And we trekked back to the land of soot and stone
Where our King was waiting on his throne

Gave our boy the news
Sent him weeping as we sang the blues

Oh, apologetic rain
Drenched our souls 'til we drowned

Allelujah, as we tried to spin back around
With our feet stained by the ground