God rest his head Sunday afternoon, and
The wicked in me is surly the wicked in you
We pray to a ghost that we never met
Time turns for a cure, for the scientists for
Madness, madness of the heart
but you knew it, you knew it from the start
And Hawking will tell us no tall tales this spring
My eyes saw the chaos that stared everything
Maybe it's faith, and the sadness takes hold
Sill stars through the window, will ever know this
Madness, madness of the heart
but you knew it, you knew it from the start
There's a madness, a madness of the heart
but you knew it, you knew it from the start
Stare a sleepy smile into a sun beam
There's nothing more than a daydream
Colored stained glass cathedral
Confines a past that wont let you go
God rest your head Sunday afternoon
And the wicked in me is surly coming through
Pray to a ghost that I've never met
Still searching for someway out of this mess
It's the heart
It's the heart
And there is a madness, a madness in the stars
But you knew it, you knew it from the start
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