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• Artiste: Sleeping Cranes
• Titre: Glass
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The sleeping Jesus was clothed in art With giant arms, and a giant heart Rolled down the hill, a ball of snow When the weather went cold and the mourning craved hope The preaching Jesus, with a carpet bag A microphone, and a book of glass Filled up with sawdust and painted black To placate the suffering and the hope that they lack Ooh, put your questions in your pockets, drop your coins And this baby boy will save you Ooh, be guided by the preaching arson's voice And this baby boy will save you The weeping Jesus carries his shame Before the shields of the barricade Nailed up by his exclusive pain His bones wrung of hope only to entertain The speaking Jesus patrols the night Glorified in the polluted light Shielding the stars in the loose lipped sky From the weeping widows with no hope in their eyes Ooh, put your questions in your pockets, drop your coins And this baby boy will save you Ooh, be guided by the preaching arson's voice And this baby boy will save you The saving Jesus, he clasps the hand Of every blind and starving man And says your thirst is for his holy land And douses in hope those who fill his demands The dying Jesus, for his good name Many men would greet the same fate One criminal, God's breath on the earth Pulled about by his strings to give hope to the world