I am not the Devil under the water
Pulling you down by your own wooden nails
Splitting, shriveling, seeping out of me
God, I'm afraid of the songs you've been singing me
God, I cannot hear your voice quite so clearly
And I am the one struggling now
We are clearly the saints
No, you're not afraid
Names cannot be engraved
In the sand
I am just a sinner
Pulling my splinters out
Chipping away at the crackling flames
Well I felt my shoulders begin to get lighter
When I realized that it all would get harder than this
But I don't believe in the surface
We can't see through the trees
No, you're not asleep
And I will not be the leaves
On your tree
And I am the tires on the beggar
Left for dead on the sides
And I am the wall
Watching me fall through windows of Saints,
Making me something I am not
Your brother got killed in the snow while you slept
But you never grew out of the secrets you kept
To keep all his life hidden up in your lies
Carried for miles inside of your mind
Now I'm writing down all of my sins I commit
And pulling the strings they've attached to my fate
But I'm done haunting houses and cursing at God
And filling up spaces with black and white fog
I saw my whole life in the glass on the floor
Well, what'd you think all of that shaking was for?
Well, I'm floating down stream, chasing after my bones
Well, I guess I grew old but I never went home.
This is what I'm hearing:
I am not the Devil under the water Pulling you down by your own wooden nails Splitting, shriveling, seeping out of me God, I'm afraid of the songs you've been singing me God, I cannot hear your voice quite so clearly And I am the one struggling now
We are clearly the saints No, you're not afraid Names cannot be engraved In the sand
I am just a sinner Pulling my splinters out Chipping away at the crackling flames Well I felt my shoulders begin to get lighter When I realized that it all would get harder than this But I don't believe in the surface
We can't see through the trees No, you're not asleep And I will not be the leaves On your tree
And I am the tires on the beggar Left for dead on the sides And I am the wall Watching me fall through windows of Saints, Making me something I am not
Your brother got killed in the snow while you slept But you never grew out of the secrets you kept To keep all his life hidden up in your lies Carried for miles inside of your mind Now I'm writing down all of my sins I commit And pulling the strings they've attached to my fate But I'm done haunting houses and cursing at God And filling up spaces with black and white fog I saw my whole life in the glass on the floor Well, what'd you think all of that shaking was for? Well, I'm floating down stream, chasing after my bones Well, I guess I grew old but I never went home.