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LYRICS j >>
Jon Foreman >>
Alba s touto skladbou:
Fall,
How miserable I am
I feel like a fruitpicker who arrives after the harvest
There's nothing here at all
Nothing at all here that could placate my hunger
The godly people are all gone
There's not one honest soul left here on the planet
We're all murderers and thieves
Setting traps here for even our brothers
And both of our hands
Are equally skilled
At doing evil
Equally skilled
At bribing the judges
Equally skilled
At perverting justice
Both of our hands
Both of our hands
The day of justice comes
And is even now swiftly arriving
Don't trust anyone at all
Not your best friend or even your wife
For the son hates the father
The daughter despises even her mother
Look! Your enemies are right
Right in the room of your very household
And both of their hands
Are equally skilled
No, don't gloat over me
For though I fall, though I fall
I will rise again
Though I sit here in darkness
The Lord, the Lord alone
He will be my light.
I will be patient as the Lord
Punishes me for the wrongs I've done against Him
After that He'll take my case
Bringing me to light and to justice
For all I have suffered
And both of His hands
Are equally skilled
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