God rest His head Sunday afternoon The wicked in me is surely the wicked in you We pray to a ghost that we never met Time turns for a cure, from the sciences rolling 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 Your mind saw the chaos that started everything Maybe it's faith, and the sadness takes hold Still stars through the window, will we ever know this?
Madness, madness of the heart You knew it, you knew it from the start Madness, a madness of the heart But you knew it, you knew it from the start
Stare a sleepy smile into a sunbeam There's nothing more than a daydream Colored stained glass cathedral Confines a past that won't let you go
God, rest Your head Sunday afternoon The wicked in me is surely coming through Pray to a ghost that I've never met So I'm 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