I′m in the rafters looking down

It's cold up here

Between walls of stoneI made my home

And the air hangs heavy with the incense

Feathers fall from pigeons

Cooing in the tower

I rarely go down ther, the view′s just so beautiful from here

And I can see everybody at their worst points

At their worst points

I'm not a sadist, I enjoy just being able to be witness of the loneliness and fear

I abhor in case there isn't one

In case there isn′t one

I′m not a higher power, I just live in the ceiling 'cause I′m lonely on the fringes

And it gives my life some meaning in the exile

In my exile

The grey light filters through slabs

And the flagstones glow

Bright from the stained-glass

A hundred feet below

As I tiptoe creaking over prayers

Pleading with their maker

Crying with the choir

I'm not immune to the sincerity below me, makes me feel, it makes me holy

But the tears I understand that I do not below

No I do not belong

Watching the figures, all the saints, but mostly sinners come and go

And some are desperate, but the others have the sense that they do belong

And I do not belong

Some only talk towards the heavens when the end is feeling desperate

Have the overwhelming feeling

That there′s nobody who's looking down

At least I′m looking down