I look left then right as I step out and stumble on forwardnLike bells in the sky announcing the servicenWhen clouds touch the ground in the morning afternThe death of a sigh and the echo of a humbling chorusnnHallelu--Hallelujah--Hallelu--HallelujahnRings from the rafters in old wooden churches.nnYou claim logic is logical, but that's circular logic.nA paradoxical paradigm that's always being shiftednTill I don't know if love is such a broken and cold...nnA radio song in time with a funeral processionnHeadlights on the bright blue sky, the contrast of traditionnAnd why I can't sleep is for the same reasons I been trying to believe in anythingnnAnd I shouldn't expect anyone to care, nBut there's things I've kept with me for some twenty-odd yearsnLike the dream of my sister, she's just a little girlnIn a red and black plaid dress and impossible curlsnAnd we're both on a boat that's starting to sinknI see her tip forward as she starts to screamnnHallelu--Hallelujah--Hallelu--Hallelujahnn (some glad morning when this life is o'ern (i'll fly awayn (to that land on God's celestial shoren (i'll fly away)