God rest his head Sunday afternoon
And the wicked in me is surely the wicked in you
We pray to a ghost that we 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
My eyes saw the chaos that started everything
Maybe it's faith, when 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 sunbeam
Is this nothing more than a daydream?
Color stained glass cathedral
Confess a past that will let you go

God rest your head Sunday afternoon
And the wicked in me is surely coming through
And pray to a ghost that I've never met
Still searching for someway out of this mess

It's the heart
It's the heart

And there's madness, a madness in the stars
But you knew it, we knew it from the start