Troubled Hubble The Do The Build The House
There's a home, there's a hell up in the hills, there's a
private drive to dreams fulfilled and a fence and a fence
keeps bad away, separating the predators from the prey.
There's a system of wires and drains and tubes, one
million means and ways things can reach you, there's a
friend and a neighbor just down the street, there's a way
to make you feel complete. There's a sense of fear you
can't ignore, not a flood or a fire or a thunder storm,
but a beast that lives out in the trees, the more we cut
the closer he comes to being released. There's a church
where your parents pray to God, they swear the stained
glass home is all they've got. They've got they've got to
feel secure and do their part to keep this poor world
pure. Let's build a stadium with a cross on the roof.
Some black magic, packed arenas are the proof. Acres and
acres of faith filled parking lots, we were told we have
read this is what he wants. Building a house cut a hole
in the Earth now. Turn it all out, you're doing superb
now. Framing's a game you can play it's a dance now. My
heart spins where this home is, the home is where the
heart will live and die we can't build out, so we build
up now everyone lives in the sky. Burn the prairie, build
the church. God will love, your hard work. The deer that
flees, in fear of the crane. Destruction is beautiful
when it's done in His name.
