The sky was blacker than the crows perched upon the windowsill
God lost patience with the silence, poured his wine, and drank his fill
"The world don't mind me much," he said,
"The world don't mind me much at all"
He drowned the flowers in the flood, but still he never felt so small
We were reckless with our demons
We let them out to play
We were reckless with our love
And we were reckless with our faith
The ground was littered with our lies; we forgot the taste of spring
Washed our sheets clean of the fire; still we didn't feel a thing
We traded morning prayers for sleep; he was watching as we fell
"This world don't mind me much," he said,
"This world is making it's own hell,"
[Chorus]
And then the sea grew heavy with the tide
The stars blackened by the smoke
He turned his back and conjured fire between his hands
Up in flames we went, oh
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