Hearts aren't really our guides.
We are [bad word] alone.
'Cause God ain't up in the sky,
Holding together our bones.

Remember we used to speak.
Now I'm starting to think,
Your voice was really my own,
Bouncing off the ceiling back to me.

God, this can't be.
God, this can't be,
God, could it be that all we see is it?
 [bad word] down, heaven.
Won't [bad word] down?
Won't you cut through the clouds?
Won't [bad word] down?

Oh, my heaven, why do you have doors to close?
Do you have clouds to stop his voice on the way down?

God, this can't be.
God, this can't be,
God, could it be that all we see is it?

God, does grace reach to this side of madness?
'Cause I know this can't be,
The great peace we all seek.
 [bad word] down, heaven.
Won't [bad word] down?
Won't you cut through the clouds?
Won't [bad word] down?