Glass Homes

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 does'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 There 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