War wages on behind closed doors Its in a book, on the bus, or in the midday paper This is where we find the patient On his way in search of salvation But his search is lost in the headlines With hell at his feet Heaven dies to save him Hell at his feet Heaven dies to save the patient Just come to real life This is healthy This is real life This is healthy He makes his bed upon the ordinary Afraid to venture far from home But his subtle thoughts are building monuments To his eternity Where years of work are on the line The stakes are unfamiliar Hed rather sit, sit, sit at home To put his mind at ease He has the time of his life Modern life Hides war well Modern life Hides war well We are the patient This is our story This is our struggle And our glory Were all hidden by real life Were under the surface Were all hidden by real life
patient, life, real, healthy, sit