Songtext von We Are The Saints

These days of wandering Blood blindfold armory I want to hold you close Oh, comfort me We’ll glide down these crowded streets And see the kids who plead For something to love If this is all there is Hashtags and genesis And heads of state all made from Papier mâché We’re washing the eyelids Of our kin It’s mourning in America I keep dreaming that I'm climbing up a dusty road To the top of a cold clear mountain Guided by a voice on the radio, it says Your feet are the future, so keep on walking Toward the little piles of broken stones When silent spring began It seemed God had a plan To strip the scales from the eyes of the shiftless The shirt-sleeved, the Sun-dressed The new baptized witnesses But watch how the emperor Feeds his prey to keep the truth at bay And now we’re fighting over scraps again We are the Saints We are the Saints But in that dream I see a circle of light and hope And strangers looking deep in the eyes Of someone they thought they didn’t know, they say Your feet are the future, so keep on walking Toward the little piles of broken stones These days of wandering Blood blindfold armory I want to hold you close Oh, comfort me We’ll glide down These empty streets And see the blue and green After the flood