software solutions for christian media
Album: Cruel Inventions
We lock the hurricane indoors,
Looking for shelter, we deny and ignore,
Afraid that our words bring clouds, we talk in code,
The thunder of cruel perfection covers love, and we're cold.
Oh, the private storm,
And our souls are worn from the tears,
Oh, the private storm,
And it rages on through the years.
No warning, the ground pulls out from underneath,
We tiptoe through air until we see the blood on their teeth.
Oh, the private storm,
And our souls are worn from the tears,
Oh, the private storm,
And it rages on through the years.
Time doesn't heal,
The scars turn into wounds as we walk lightly,
Silent screams in the storm.
Oh, the private storm,
And our souls are worn from the tears,
Oh, the private storm,
And it rages on through the years,
Oh, the private storm,
And our souls are worn from the tears,
Oh, the private storm,
And it rages on through the years.
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