Lazarus

looked in your eyes, they were burning like cigarettes
on top of a head that could resurrect Lazarus up from a grave that somehow made you cry
both of your hands were rough like a carpenters, so accustomed to nails and to hammers
never would've thought those nails would cut inside
o', your hands were blessed one holy, holy night

we found your grace, it was waiting inside of a dead dark place with few survivors, it seems that you lived in places I reckoned you wouldn't.
and all that we saw were people that had no hope and you changed my eyes into flaming kaleidoscopes,
I saw something that I thought for sure was fiction
but the peace that it brought me erased all of my conviction

there was a knife buried deep inside the part of our hearts where we learned how to love something other than us; it was built on a sandy shore hoping the waves wouldn't come to the door and greet us with disdain and heaviness, one of redemption, washing away all the thoughts we had ran to before

you rescued me from my disbelief, would you please rescue me from being a thief of things that will burn up when it's the end
dust collects, yeah, dust it upsets and we are only dust at best but you can breathe dust back to life again
O', flood the whole world and dust will walk again