She was staring at the ceiling
I was staring at the floor
He was fixed in thought and wonder
Of what lied behind the door
There was a man with little movement
I knew I? d seen him here before
The people with the children were sick to death
And would wait no more
The world, it can? t be moving
It? s been two thousand years or
Have I stopped breathing?
Have I stopped believing?
Believe me, I
He must? ve talked for forever
I think they finally turned away
And I was thinking to myself
I should have plenty more to say
And some were getting very restless
Some were filling up the days
I was hoping that the girl
With the curl would be safe
The world, it can? t be moving
It? s been two thousand years or
Have I stopped breathing?
Have I stopped believing?
Believe me, I
Just want to have the patience of a saint
Who waits at the gate
Please don? t be late
The floors are giving in
The walls are getting thin
The clock is moving slow
My breathing comes and goes
The room is getting small
The sin is growing tall
We wait for the day
We wait for the day
The world, it can? t be moving
It? s been two thousand years or
Have I stopped breathing?
Have I stopped believing?
Believe me, I
Just want to have the patience of a saint
Who waits at the gate
Please don? t be late
She was full of good intentions
I was full with all my greed
He was holding out his hands
As if to give, as if to bleed
There was a man with little substance
I know I? d seen him here indeed
The people with the children spoke so soft
To confess their need
And some are getting hopeless
Some are filling up the days
I am hoping on a promise, on a gift
And so I wait