Steve Evetts - Stained Gla** Ceilings lyrics

[Verse 1] Like a burning monk You're my light flare out in the dark You're my constant call to arms Took the blindfold off They'd left chalk outlines where the future was It's a goddamn war of attrition It's a d**h by a thousand cuts And if these motherf**ers made it to heaven They'd burn the bridge when they got across [Chorus 1] They're gathering anchors They're gathering rope You push into heaven all alone They're grabbing your ankles They won't let you go The ebb and the distant flow They're cutting your wings off Built you ceilings out of stained gla** [Verse 2] Well you cut like gravel in my skinned knee The wound will close eventually You'll stay as a reminder of how f**ed this world can be Held your funeral on a Tuesday Holy waters, November cold The kid who pulled the trigger Knew tomorrow couldn't promise him hope [Chorus 2] All these ba*tards are gathering rope You push into heaven all alone They're grabbing your ankles They won't let you go The ebb and the distant flow They're cutting your wings off Built your ceilings out of stained gla** They were cutting your wings off I was staring at my idle hands Maybe I could've done something Maybe I could've made a difference [Bridge 1: Dan "Soupy" Campbell] John Wayne with a God complex Tells me to buy a gun Like shooting a teenage kid is gonna solve any problems Like it's an arms race Like d**h don't mean nothing To know the heavy price of living poor Walled in by red lines, backed into a corner Not knowing growing up what it's like to belong here in America [Bridge 2: Jason Aalon Butler] If everyone's built the same then how come building's so f**ing hard for you? It's something we're all born into Nothing's left up to gray It's black or white and sometimes black and blue It's something we're all born into, whoa-oh Now I know what's in a name Not just my father Three-fifths a man makes half of me Why should I bother? [Dan "Soupy" Campbell] Merchants of misery stacking the deck f** your John Waynes f** your God complex [Jason Aalon Butler] I have everything in front of me But can't reach far enough To touch those fever dreams They call America I am the ghetto's chosen one The privileged ba*tard son [Outro] They're gathering anchors They're gathering rope You push into heaven all alone They're gathering anchors They're gathering rope You push into heaven all alone No, all alone