notícias musicais

top 13 artistas

  1. Católicas
  2. Flamengo
  3. Racionais Mc's
  4. Luiz Gonzaga
  5. Tribo da Periferia
  6. Xuxa
  7. Padre Zezinho
  8. LetoDie
  9. Ferrugem
  10. Roberto Carlos
  11. Costa Gold
  12. Damares
  13. Robson Biollo

top 13 musicas

  1. Gritos da Torcida
  2. Fico Assim Sem Você
  3. Aloha, e Komo Mai
  4. Jesus Chorou
  5. Da Ponte Pra Cá
  6. Negro Drama
  7. Tô Brisando Em Você
  8. Monstros
  9. Ampulheta
  10. Te Amo Disgraça
  11. Nem Todo Homem Mente
  12. Mande Um Sinal
  13. Nossa Conversa
Confira a Letra Oh My God

Jars Of Clay

Oh My God

Oh my God, look around this place,
Your fingers reach around the bone,
you set the break and set the tone
For flights of grace, and future falls
In present pain all fools say, "Oh my God."

Oh my God, why are we so afraid?
We make it worse when we don't bleed,
There is no cure for our disease.
Turn a phrase and rise again,
Or fake your death and only tell your closest friends,
Oh My God.

Oh my God, can I complain?
You take away my firm belief and graft my soul upon your grief.
Weddings, boats, and alibis,
All drift away, and a mother cries...

Liars and fools, sons and failures, theives will always say...
Lost and found, ailing wanderers, healers always say...
Whores and angels, men with problems, leavers always say...
Broken hearted, separated, orphans always say...
War creators, racial haters, preachers always say...
Distant fathers, fallen warriors, givers always say...
Pilgrim saints, lonely widows, users always say...
Fearful mothers, watchful doubters, Saviors always say...

Sometimes I can not forgive
and these days mercy cuts so deep,
If the world was how it should be,
maybe I could get some sleep.
While I lay, I'd dream we're better,
scales were gone and faces lighter,
When we wake we hate our brother,
we still move to hurt each other,
Sometimes I can close my eyes
and all the fear the keeps me silent,
Falls below my heavy breathing,
what makes me so badly bent?
We all have a chance to murder,
we all have the need for wonder.
We still want to be reminded that the pain is worth the plunder.

Sometimes when I lose my grip,
I wonder what to make of heaven,
All the times I thought to reach up,
all the times I had to give up.
Babies underneath their beds,
in hospitals that can not treat them.
All the wounds that money causes,
all the comforts of cathedrals,
All the cries of thirsty children,
this is our inheritance,
All the rage of watching mothers,
this is our greatest offense
Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God.

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