(Swept away with the tide)
Through the holes in my hands
(Through the holes in my hands)
Crown of thorns at my side
(Crown of thorns at my side, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Drawing lines in the sand

Sometimes, if you're perfectly still
You can hear the virgin weeping
For the savior of your will
Sometimes, your castles in the air
And the fantasies you're seeking, are the crosses you bear

Sacred conflict, blessed prize
Weeping crosses, stainless eyes
Desperate addict, faith disguised

Swept away with the tide
(Swept away with the tide)
Through the holes in my hands
(Through the holes in my hands, yeah)
Crown of thorns at my side
(Crown of thorns at my side)
Drawing lines in the sand

We fabricate our demons, invite them into our homes
Have supper with the aliens and fight the war alone
We conjure up our skeletons, enlist the den of thieves
Frightened from our closets, then sewn upon our sleeves

In the stream of consciousness, there is a river crying
Living comes much easier, once we admit, we're dying

Sometimes, in the wreckage of our wake
There's a bitterness we harbor and hate for hatred's sake
Sometimes we, we dig an early grave and crucify our instincts
For the hope we couldn't save

Sometimes a view from sinless eyes
Centers our perspective and pacifies our cries
Sometimes the anguish we survive and the mysteries we nurture
Are the fabrics of our lives

Swept away with the tide
(Swept away with the tide, yeah)
Through the holes in my hands
(Through the holes, holes in my hands)
Crown of thorns at my side
(Crown of thorns at my side)
Drawing lines in the sand