He trade his guns for love
But he's caught in the crossfire
And he keeps waking up
But it's not to the sound of birds
The tyranny
The violent streets
Deprived
Of all we we're blessed with
And we can't get enough
No...
Heaven if you sent us down
So we could build a playground
For the sinners, to play as saints
You'd be so proud of what we made
I hope you get some beds around
Cuz you're the only refuge now
For every mother, every child
Every brother...
That's caught in the crossfire...
That's caught in the crossfire ..
I trade my luck to know
Why he's caught in the crossfire
And I'm here wakin' up
To the sun and the sounds of birds
Society, anxiety
Deprived
Of all we're blessed with
We just can't get enough.
No...
Heaven if you sent us down
So we could build a playground
For the sinners, to play as saints
You'd be so proud of what we made
I hope you got some beds around
Cuz your the only refuge now
For every mother, every child
Every brother
That's caught in the crossfire...
That's caught in the crossfire..
Can I trust what I'm given?
When faith still needs a guns
Whose ammunition
Justifies the wrong?
And I can't see
From the backseat
So I am asking from above
Can you trust what I'm given
Even when it cuts..
So heaven if you sent us down
So we could build a playground
For the sinners,to play as saints
You'd be so proud of what we made
I hope you have some beds around
Cuz your the only refuge now
For every mother, every child,
Every brother
That's caught in the crossfire
Who's caught in the crossfire
Who's caught in the crossfire
Who's caught in the cross