God rest his head Sunday afternoon
And the wicked in me is surely the wicked in you
Pray to a ghost that we've never met
Time turns for a cure from the scientists for
Madness, madness, of the heart
But you knew it, you knew it from the start
And Hawking will tell us no tall tales this spring
Our minds hold the chaos that started everything
Maybe it's fate, as the sadness takes hold
Still stars through a window, will they ever know this
Madness, madness, of the heart
But you knew it, you knew it from the start
There's a madness, a madness of the heart
But you knew it, you knew it from the start
Stare a sleepy smile into a sun beam
Is this nothing more than a daydream?
Colored stained glass cathedral
Confess a past that won't let you go
God rest your head Sunday afternoon
And the wicked in me is surely coming through
Pray to a ghost that I've never met
Still searching for some way out of this mess
It's the heart
It's the heart
There's a madness, a madness in the stars
But you knew it, you knew it from the start