The dust settles on the holy books tonight

Every steeple casting shadows in the gray light

You tell me that the water turns to wine

But the vineyard is withered on the vine

I am looking at the mountain of the old ways

Counting all the ghosts of my younger days

The newspapers are yellowing on the floor

Common sense is knocking at a locked door

They fed us lines and taught us how to pray

To a silence that has nothing left to say

We are walking in a circle carved in stone

Building a kingdom we can never own

Why do we bow to the ghost of a king

Why do we dance to a bell that won't ring

Questioning the pillars and the heavy ground

Questioning the silence and the holy sound

If the truth is a cage then I am breaking through

Searching for a horizon that is actually blue

Conditioned like a clock with a broken gear

Fed on a diet of comfortable fear

But the chain is only as strong as the lie

And the bird doesn't ask for permission to fly

No more kneeling for a cause that is dead

No more hunger for the stones we were fed

The architects are hiding in their high rooms

While we are tending to the garden of the tombs

The script was written long before we came

A thousand people with the exact same name

But the ink is fading on the master plan

I am taking back the vision of a man

Break the habit of the ancient heavy heart

Tear the map of the world completely apart

The facts are just some shadows on the wall

Waiting for a heavy enough rain to fall

I am standing where the road starts to bend

Where the fairy tale meets a bitter end

Why do we bow to the ghost of a king

Why do we dance to a bell that won't ring

Questioning the pillars and the heavy ground

Questioning the silence and the holy sound

If the truth is a cage then I am breaking through

Searching for a horizon that is actually blue

Why do we bow to the ghost of a king

Why do we dance to a bell that won't ring

Questioning the pillars and the heavy ground

Questioning the silence and the holy sound

If the truth is a cage then I am breaking through

Searching for a horizon that is actually blue