We’re all born into other people’s stuff
Maybe your politics suck
Face it everybody’s messed up
We’re all sick of the same old trick
But there’s some magic in the world
Believe in something or it doesn’t turn
Round, round, round
All we’re doing is

Throwing stones from glass homes
Throwing stones from glass homes

We’re all born just trying to take a breath
Maybe your lungs are still wet
So you cry until you finally get
A small piece of the sky inside
You know that hеaven is a leaven
Hеll is low and dry and so we get
High, high, high
Watch the ceiling, love

Throwing stones from glass homes
Throwing stones from glass homes
Throwing stones from glass homes
Throwing stones from glass homes
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