The 11th hour

We live and we give and we're dead
Missing something. Searching for God.
No point in asking why
I know we were born to die
We prosper, we suffer
Missing something. Searching for God.
I waged my war up from the ground
I tied the noose and pulled the great illusion from the sky
I killed my father and I found
That I'm the bastard son of something made up in my mind
I just need something real
Missing something. Searching for God.
God is just the Devil in the pictures in your head
I see more.
I see it in the streets
It's the ground beneath my feet
It's hunger. It's disease.
There's truth in the harmony.
I feel it. I believe.
In the war that's inside of me
Blue eyes and broken teeth
It's God. It's God. It's God