Glass Homes lyrics - Death from above 1979

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 heaven is a leaven

Hell 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