I wake up and it's windy after dreaming of a flood
There are no divine commandments
I am not the wrath of God
But when I know that blood will flow
God is my middle-man
I lift the stone, God breaks the bone
And then washes clean my hands
We were God's ghost writers
We were meeting once a week
But in truth we never heard a word
Because God doesn't speak
The backyards flood, the waters wash the fence into the creek
Whisper softly as you touch the child say "God says not to speak"
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