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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Mark Tremonti
Electric Guitar
Scott Stapp
Lead Vocals
Brian Marshall
Bass Guitar
Scott Phillips
Drums
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Mark Tremonti
Songwriter
Scott Stapp
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
John Kurzweg
Producer
Chris Carroll
Assistant Engineer
Andrew Roshberg
Editing Engineer
Howie Weinberg
Mastering Engineer
Ron Saint Germain
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
Court is in session, a verdict is in
No appeal on the docket today just my own sin
The walls cold and pale, the cage made of steel
Screams fill the room, alone I drop and kneel
(And I said, ohh) So I held my head up high
Hiding hate that burns inside
Which only fuels their selfish pride
(And I said, ohh) All held captive out from the sun
A sun that shines on only some
We the meek are all in one
I hear a thunder in the distance, see a vision of a cross
I feel the pain that was given on that sad day of loss
A lion roars in the darkness, only he holds the key
A light to free me from my burden and grant me life eternally
Should have been dead on a Sunday morning, banging my head
No time for mourning
Ain't got no time
Should have been dead on a Sunday morning, banging my head
No time for mourning
Ain't got no time
(And I said, ohh) So I held my head up high
Hiding hate that burns inside
Which only fuels their selfish pride
(And I said, ohh) All held captive out from the sun
A sun that shines on only some
We the meek are all in one
I cry out to God, seeking only His decision
Gabriel stand and confirms, I've created my own prison
I cry out to God, seeking only His decision
Gabriel stand and confirms, I've created my own prison
(And I said, ohh) So I held my head up high
Hiding hate that burns inside
Which only fuels their selfish pride
(And I said, ohh) All held captive out from the sun
A sun that shines on only some
We the meek are all in one
(And I said, ohh) All held captive out from the sun (I've created, I've created))
A sun that shines on only some (I've created, I've created)
We the meek are all in one (I've created my own prison)
Should have been dead on a Sunday morning, banging my head
No time for mourning
Ain't got no time
Writer(s): Scott A. Stapp, Mark T. Tremonti
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