I don't know who you are, and it's too hard To keep pretending that you're more Than the mark of an old scar That doesn't hurt anymore Yeah I've grown numb of the fear That everything I've done Was being controlled by the father, by the son By the holy ghost you've become But I would fold my hands and buckle to my knees And I would pray the sky would fall down on me And I would stumble to the shore to be baptized in the waves If it meant that everything we know doesn't go away And I know my mother cries When she realizes I don't love you like she does But now she bows her head and prays that you forgive me Oh, so what does that make me? The unloving, ungrateful son of a saint? What if that makes me the monster an angel raised? I would fold my hands and buckle to my knees And I would pray the sky would fall down on me And I would stumble to the shore to be baptized in the waves If it meant that everything we know doesn't go away But I would fold my hands and buckle to my knees And I would pray the sky would fall down on me I would fold my hands and buckle to my knees And I would pray the sky would fall down on me And I would stumble to the shore to be baptized in the waves If it meant that everything we know doesn't go away