He’d trade his guns for love
But he’s caught in the crossfire
And he keeps wakin’ up
But it’s not to the sound of birds
The tyranny, the violent streets
Deprived of all that we’re blessed with
And we can’t get enough, no

Heaven if you sent us down
So we could build a playground
For the sinners to play as saints
You’d be so proud of what we made
I hope you got some beds around
Cuz you’re the only refuge now
For every mother, every child, every brother
That’s caught in the crossfire

I’d trade my luck to know
Why he’s caught in the crossfire
And I’m here wakin’ up
To the sun and the sound of birds
Society’s anxiety
Deprives of all that we’re blessed with
We just can’t get enough, no!

Heaven if you sent us down
So we could build a playground
For the sinners to play as saints
You’d be so proud of what we made
I hope you got some beds around
Cuz you’re the only refuge now
For every mother, every child, every brother
Who’s caught in the crossfire!

Can I trust what I’m given?
When faith still needs a gun
Whose ammunition justifies the wrong?
And I can’t see from the backseat
So I’m asking from above
Can I trust what I’m 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
You’d be so proud of what we made
I hope you got some beds around
Cuz you’re the only refuge now
For every mother and every child, every brother
That's caught in the crossfire
Who’s caught in the crossfire
Who’s caught in the crossfire
Who’s caught in the crossfire
Who’s caught on the cross

Stephen