Death from Above 1979 - Glass Homes

We're all born into other people's stuff
Maybe your politics suck
Face it everybody's messed up
We're all sick of the same old trick
But there's some magic in the world
Believe in something or it doesn't turn

Round, round, round

All we're doing is
Throwing stones from glass homes
Throwing stones from glass homes

We're all born just trying to take a breath
Maybe your lungs are still wet
So you cry until you finally get
A small piece of the sky inside
You know that heaven is a leaven
Hell is low and dry and so we get

High, high, high

Watch the ceiling, love
Throwing stones from glass homes
Throwing stones from glass homes
Throwing stones from glass homes
Throwing stones from glass homes

Written by:
Jesse Frederick Keeler, Sebastien Alexandre Grainger

Publisher:
Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing

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