They clustered ’round in fours
Hands full of mud and straw
Pushing it together
To make those great big walls
An armful of sand
Slips upon the table
And your skin is rough and broken so a little blood will fall
A little blood will fall
A little blood will fall into the bricks

Lord you know I’m right
I’ll be tickling your chin
Close enough to see what you look like
“Give up your foolish dream”
That’s what my father said
I told him I’m the builder
I am not the architect
I am not the architect
I am not the architect

In the middle of the night, sometimes
I’m thrust rudely into awareness
A tall, gray doorway opens to the stars
At the foot of my bed
I’m afraid to catch my head
On the clouds at the top of the sky

People are so malleable
When you know the power of words
“Malleus” is “hammer”
So that’s how I get heard
Maria’s girl fell down, and I don’t think she’s getting up
She only made two feet today
Do you think that it’s enough?
Do you think that it’s enough?
Do you think that it’s enough?
Do you think?

Don’t you want to scrape the paint on the globe that spans the sky?
Don’t you want to see what lies beyond before you die?
I can only grieve for the hopes that lie as dead
I am not the author, friends, these are just the words I read
These are just the words I read
These are just the words I read
These are just the words I read

In the middle of the night, sometimes
I’m thrust rudely into awareness
A tall, gray doorway opens to the stars
At the foot of my bed
I’m afraid to catch my head
On the clouds at the top of the sky
On the clouds at the top of the sky