Too Bright To See, Too Loud To Hear

Good God, if your song leaves our lips

If your work leaves our hands

Then we will be wonders and vagabonds

They will stare and say how empty we are

How the freedom we had turned us up as dead men

Let us be cold, make us weak

Let us, because we all have ears

Let us, because we all have eyes

How they knew that this would happen

We're so run down

Good God! Can you still get us home...

How can we still get home

I'm not dreaming

We're forgetting our forgiveness