It's as if everything you see back in 1963

Our black hearts among them kneeling

Only one of them was screaming go

They’ve got fire up in trees

In the balance, in the breeze

Hold that trigger with some feeling

As the choir sings out of key

They sing: Blood, mistrust, and the love of god

Red, white, blue bleed through the pearly gates I see

Dead air, an army of greed

With holes in their hearts I see

Making plans to mark the art

A silver lining falls apart

With sinners digging graves in sand

We land ourselves trembling hands

Great god

Bury hard

With all our might we might make our mark

Holding hands to chokе belief

Gripping peoplе that we need

In a moment they were stealing

Oh that thief that stole a piece of me

Red, white, blue bleed through the pearly gates I see

Dead air, an army of greed

With holes in their hearts I see

Making plans to mark the art

A silver lining falls apart

With sinners digging graves in sand

We land ourselves trembling hands

Ow

In the sand

Won't you leave