For the third night this week, I've been awoken by dreams That my ceiling is cracking, and falling on me Every house holds the story of the things it has seen If these walls could talk, they'd probably scream This city was abandoned when they closed the factories The buildings were left vacant and decaying in the streets Every town holds the story of what it used to be If these sidewalks could walk, they'd probably leave We left it all in god's hands, all in gods hands All in god's hands, all in gods hands, we left it all in gods hands and he failed us again We left it all in god's hands, all in gods hands All in god's hands, all in gods hands, we left it all in gods hands and he failed us again