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Good Monsters by Jars Of Clay  | CD Reviews And Information | NewReleaseToday


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01 . Work
02 . Dead Men (Carry Me)
03 . All My Tears
04 . Even Angels Cry
05 . There Is A River
06 . Good Monsters
07 . Oh My God
08 . Surprise
09 . Take Me Higher
10 . Mirrors & Smoke
11 . Light Gives Heat
12 . Water Under The Bridge

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"Oh My God" Lyrics [edit]
by Jars Of Clay | from the album Good Monsters
 

Oh my God, look around this place
Your fingers reach around the bone
you set the break and set the tone
For flights of grace, and future falls
In present pain all fools say, "Oh my God."

Oh my God, why are we so afraid?
We make it worse when we don't bleed
There is no cure for our disease
Turn a phrase and rise again
Or fake your death and only tell your closest friends
Oh My God

Oh my God, can I complain?
You take away my firm belief and graft my soul upon your grief
Weddings, boats, and alibis
All drift away, and a mother cries

Liars and fools, sons and failures, theives will always say
Lost and found, ailing wanderers, healers always say
Whores and angels, men with problems, leavers always say
Broken hearted, separated, orphans always say
War creators, racial haters, preachers always say
Distant fathers, fallen warriors, givers always say
Pilgrim saints, lonely widows, users always say
Fearful mothers, watchful doubters, Saviors always say

Sometimes I can not forgive
and these days mercy cuts so deep
If the world was how it should be, maybe I could get some sleep
While I lay, I'd dream we're better, scales were gone and faces lighter
When we wake we hate our brother, we still move to hurt each other
Sometimes I can close my eyes and all the fear the keeps me silent
Falls below my heavy breathing, what makes me so badly bent?
We all have a chance to murder, we all have the need for wonder
We still want to be reminded that the pain is worth the thunder

Sometimes when I lose my grip, I wonder what to make of heaven
All the times I thought to reach up, all the times I had to give up
Babies underneath their beds, in hospitals that cannot treat them
All the wounds that money causes, all the comforts of cathedrals
All the cries of thirsty children, this is our inheritance
All the rage of watching mothers, this is our greatest offense
Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God


+ Entry lasted edited by on 09.16.07

 


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