on the street where silent people walk I'm a-gonna build a church and let the preaching know that this is when my prayer could come to die oh referencing my curses spread out on the ground deep in the pockets of your suns you could see why i have come and by the presence of my eye you could see why i took a lonely fly and on the roof the silent pigeon walks wondering if our bloody mess could make the sunset talk tightening his wings across his chest or diving to tomorrow where a nervous bird could rest deep in the pockets of your suns
you could see why i have come and by the absence of a cry you could hear why he took a lonely fly deep on the bottom of a lake you could watch me as i wake to pray the surface is the sky you could see why... yes, in the depths where silent rivers blow i'm a-gonna build a boat and let the customs know that this is not a sail that will be hailed oh watch me as i drift away, i don't want to be saved deep in the pockets of your suns you could see why i have come to pray the surface is the sky you could see why i took a lonely fly