For the third night this week, I've been awoken by dreams
That my ceiling is cracking, and falling on me
Every house holds the story of the things it has seen
If these walls could talk, they'd probably scream
This city was abandoned when they closed the factories
The buildings were left vacant and decaying in the streets
Every town holds the story of what it used to be
If these sidewalks could walk, they'd probably leave
We left it all in god's hands, all in gods hands
All in god's hands, all in gods hands, we left it all in gods hands and he failed us again
We left it all in god's hands, all in gods hands
All in god's hands, all in gods hands, we left it all in gods hands and he failed us again