Waiting to
In the morning glow with light so low
the day begins as night shelds her skin.
In the aftermath of the long dark past,
I'm beginning to see the light.
Through drunken days and spinning scenes,
the lifting of weight that God's freedom brings.
Till genius awakes with hungover snakes
and remembers the dreams one more.
Tossed from bed to floor.
Sometime, somewhere just when you think it couldn't get any worse,
it'll hit you unaware and you realise:
it sure as hell ain't gonna get any better.
So tune into the radio and listen to the words we say.
it's gonna get far worse before it gets better.
Tune into the T.V. show, when we will appear to show you the way.
When host of heavenly Angels takes homeward to the Promised Land.
And the stars did align in nineteen ninety-nine.
We're getting ready for the moment to shine.
With luck, star-struck.
On the front of the storm we shall be born,
under the red and the blue and the white,
these angels will take flight.
Sometime, somewhere just when you think it couldn't get any worse,
it'll hit you unaware and you realise:
it's gonna get far worse before it gets better.
So turn your heads to the starry skies above,
give those sore eyes a sight.
When the host of heavenly Angels takes flight
with crippled wings and songs to sing.
Just a stupid ranch hand in a Texas rock band,
trying to understand God's masterplan.
When the Lord said "Son! Tell the world before it explodes,
the glory of the Texas-Jerusalem Crossroads."
I said "Lord I'll make you a deal;
I will if you give me a smash hit so I can build a 'city on a hill'."
And He said "Son! I will if you will."
I said "My sweet Lord, it's a deal."
Waiting to hit with crippled wings,
waiting to hit with songs to sing,
waiting to hit the silver screen,
waiting to hit the scene.
So we approach the grand conclusion when the world receives its retribution.
On the eve of our destruction, standing at the edge looking over.
Waiting to hit the center stage at such a golden and tender age,
shot forth out of the miry clay cuttin' all the corners along the way.
Born in a manger covered in after-birth, we're taking her for all she's worth.
With stars above, lone star below, upon the earth a star is born.
In the morning glow with light so low
the day begins as night shelds her skin.
In the aftermath of the long dark past,
I'm beginning to see the light.
Through drunken days and spinning scenes,
the lifting of weight that God's freedom brings.
Till genius awakes with hungover snakes
and remembers the dreams one more.
Tossed from bed to floor.
Sometime, somewhere just when you think it couldn't get any worse,
it'll hit you unaware and you realise:
it sure as hell ain't gonna get any better.
So tune into the radio and listen to the words we say.
it's gonna get far worse before it gets better.
Tune into the T.V. show, when we will appear to show you the way.
When host of heavenly Angels takes homeward to the Promised Land.
And the stars did align in nineteen ninety-nine.
We're getting ready for the moment to shine.
With luck, star-struck.
On the front of the storm we shall be born,
under the red and the blue and the white,
these angels will take flight.
Sometime, somewhere just when you think it couldn't get any worse,
it'll hit you unaware and you realise:
it's gonna get far worse before it gets better.
So turn your heads to the starry skies above,
give those sore eyes a sight.
When the host of heavenly Angels takes flight
with crippled wings and songs to sing.
Just a stupid ranch hand in a Texas rock band,
trying to understand God's masterplan.
When the Lord said "Son! Tell the world before it explodes,
the glory of the Texas-Jerusalem Crossroads."
I said "Lord I'll make you a deal;
I will if you give me a smash hit so I can build a 'city on a hill'."
And He said "Son! I will if you will."
I said "My sweet Lord, it's a deal."
Waiting to hit with crippled wings,
waiting to hit with songs to sing,
waiting to hit the silver screen,
waiting to hit the scene.
So we approach the grand conclusion when the world receives its retribution.
On the eve of our destruction, standing at the edge looking over.
Waiting to hit the center stage at such a golden and tender age,
shot forth out of the miry clay cuttin' all the corners along the way.
Born in a manger covered in after-birth, we're taking her for all she's worth.
With stars above, lone star below, upon the earth a star is born.