Turn the noise down
I can't concentrate on what I'm trying to hear
The clutter mottles up the sample rate
The signal isn't clear
I've tried so hard to write the story
But the story's writing me
I've dug my stones down the quarry
And the stones are building me
Skies have darkened
Storms appear
I hear your silent whisper
No, I won't fear
Take me to a lofty mountain place
So that I may see
Through the tears that fall upon the face
Of my humility
Fingers pointing, scorning angry cries
How can I remain?
Hearing shouted warnings of despise
I am their bain
I will not waste this perfect moment
Serving what they feed
I will not make my last atonement
Cutting them to bleed