Story Behind The Song

Philosophical gravity about life in America and it's similarities to the possibilities of hell.

Song Description

Floating, heavy rock composition with male lead and intertwining female vox.

Lyrics

There?s no greater love than the fruit from the above
And I know that it?s real, so real lovers I can feel
The truth burn in my heart when we love

Takin? what they?re teachin, forgetting what the preacher?s been crying out loud for so long 2,000 since he died for the one we call love.

Just a white haired man clinging to a park bench
Ah, the stories he could tell
Was a time when we all would call him sir, ah, but now he sits and waits for hell.

All the children play in the broken streets at night, fighter jets dance above their heads
Is there god, or just a world of make believe
You tell me, are we stuck in hell?
I don?t know, to me it looks like hell

Talkin about white trash, livin lives of illusion
Get their dreams from a colored box
Talkin bout moral confusion
You tell me, are we stuck in hell?

You can try to say that it won?t happen
Keep our heads, buried in the sand
Let?s pretend that we live in Eden
I don?t know, to me it looks like hell
I don?t know, to me it looks like hell

Tell me know, where you think you?re running to?
There?s nothing left, no place to hide
The time has come, the time that you?ve been waiting for
The time has come for us to try
Because the time might come for us to die

On my knees and I?m praying, time, time, time
Time to try