God in the Grain

[Verse 1]
You hold the wood plane like you're holding a prayer,
Shaving a millimeter off into the air.
The turpentine smell on your good Sunday shirt,
You find a salvation down there in the dirt
Of the basement's damp cold, while the Pink Line goes by.
You never look up, you don't have to try.

[Pre-Chorus]
And you can measure a life in the lines on your thumb,
But the sound that I'm making just leaves you numb.

[Chorus]
You find your god in the grain of the wood,
I found my truth in misunderstood
Feedback and fury, the basement's whole SHAKE.
This is the GOOD noise my hands had to make.

[Verse 2]
I bought a knock-off Strat with taqueria tips,
The words you don't say blistering on my lips.
"'Es puro ruido,'" you said and you turned your back,
My anthems are the hairline fracture, the crack
In the perfect veneer of the silence you built.
I'm screaming a language you taught me was guilt.

[Pre-Chorus]
And you can build a whole house that won't ever fall,
But you can't hear my voice through the plaster and wall.

[Chorus]
You find your god in the grain of the wood,
I found my truth in misunderstood
Feedback and fury, the basement's whole SHAKE.
This is the GOOD noise my hands had to make.

[Bridge]
Same sawdust spirit, just a different machine.
The splinter, the static, the space in between.

[Chorus]
You find your god in the grain of the wood,
I found my TRUTH in misunderstood
Feedback and fury, the basement's whole SHAKE.
This is the GOOD noise my hands had to make!