Текст песни John Wesley Harding - God Lives Upstairs
John Wesley Harding - God Lives Upstairs слова песни
There was this manWho lived on the seashoreThe house with the steel doorYou passed it on the way to where you areHe stares at the sandFrom his bedroom windowShakes as the wind blowsThrough the passing tail-fins of your carNothing matters anymoreIf it does, he doesnt careThe devil lives below himGod lives upstairsHes trying to sleepSo hard in the daylightImpossible at nightBetween those neighbours driving him insaneFootsteps from aboveBelow, its all-night partiesAnd its drink up, my heartiesTheyre stoking up for the furnace once againNothing matters anymoreIf he does, he doesnt careThe devil lives below himGod lives upstairsHe hasnt a prayerBetween the heated floorboardsAnd the quiet guy on the third floorWho never even picks up all his mailHe knows where it goesDownstairs is stealingHe stares at the ceilingHe knows that all he has to do is failNothing matters anymoreIf it does, he doesnt careThe devil lives below himGod lives upstairsThe devil lives below himGod lives upstairs