Lyrics

God left the door open.

I don't think
He meant for me
to look inside.

There was a chair
with nobody in it,
a little white lie
with a halo pinned to it.

Flies made circles
where the angels should be,
and something with feathers
was staring at me.

I put my ear
against the floor.
Heard heaven breathing
under the door.
Knocked three times.
Nobody came.

So I crawled inside
and borrowed His name.

Maybe the shepherd
ate the sheep.
Maybe the faithful
dream too deep.
Maybe the light
we learned to follow
was just another mouth
left open to swallow.

GOD LEFT THE DOOR OPEN.
So I let myself in.
Found His fingerprints
all over my skin.

GOD LEFT THE DOOR OPEN.
There was nothing inside.
Just a beautiful room
WHERE SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL DIED

I found little teeth
beneath the throne,
a crown made of insects
and telephone bones.
The saints had scratches
around their eyes.
Someone had taught them
how not to recognize.

I tasted the wine.
It tasted like rust.
I opened the book.
It opened us.
Every little promise
had a hole underneath.
Every little heaven
HAD SOMETHING WITH TEETH

Maybe the shepherd
lost his sheep.
Maybe the dead
don't really sleep.
Maybe every prayer
we send above comes crawling back
with its wings cut off.

GOD LEFT THE DOOR OPEN.
So I let myself in.
Found His fingerprints
all over my skin.

GOD LEFT THE DOOR OPEN.
There was nothing inside.
Just a beautiful room
WHERE SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL DIED

GOD LEFT THE DOOR OPEN.
Now the flies are getting in.
They're building little heavens
underneath my skin.

GOD LEFT THE DOOR OPEN.