Songwriters: Atkins, Martin; Connelly, Chris; Seibold, Steven
Too much ice on the outside too much time to get out there vacant sways become angry nothing faced nothing followed it's a vice of disciples lapse of faith no act of grace moving steals in as much as we reveal no encounter no attachment to anything less than we corrupt it's a life but at least it is contained no act of grace it's the fall of a morning you wake in before it's the life that is calling you can't kid yourself it's the act of you killing you can't take it back it's the things that you did that you still can't remember the people would rather you never wake up there's no act of grace to the minds to the greedy needful kinds wishing worthless wishing backwards wish you weren't here stick out loud stick out gestures stiff the crowd no act of
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