Текст песни:
He'd trade his guns for love,
But hes caught in the crossfire,
And he keeps wakin up,
But its not to the sound of birds,
The tyranny, the violent streets,
Deprived of all that were blessed with,
And we cant get enough,
Heaven if you sent us down,
So we could build a playground,
For the sinners, to play as saints,
Youd be so proud of what we made
I hope you got some beds around,
Cuz youre the only refuge now,
For every mother, every child, every brother,
Thats caught in the Crossfire,
Id trade my luck to know,
Why hes caught in the crossfire,
And Im here wakin up,
To the sun and the sound of birds,
Societys, Anxiety,
Deprives of all that were blessed with,
We just cant get enough,
Heaven if you sent us down,
So we could build a playground,
For the sinners, to play as saints,
Youd be so proud of what we made
I hope you got some beds around,
Cuz youre the only refuge now,
For every mother, every child, every brother,
Whos caught in the Crossfire,
Can I trust what Im given?
When faith still needs a gun,
Whose ammunition,
Justifies the wrong?
And I cant see, from the backseat,
So Im asking from above,
Can I trust what Im given,
Even when it cuts?
So Heaven if you sent us down,
So we could build a playground,
For the sinners, to play as saints,
Youd be so proud of what we made
I hope you got some beds around,
Cuz youre the only refuge now,
For every mother, every child, every brother,
Whos caught in the Crossfire,
Whos caught in the crossfire,
Whos caught in the crossfire,
Whos caught on the cross,
