You will build me a sanctuary with a marquee that says 'Come on in.' Come hear our pastor, a stand-up comic. You know he dare not speak of sin. Come hear our worship. You'll swear you heard it on the radio, on top ten. But I'll be standin' alone in the cold, dark night. I'll be knockin' on your crystal doors. I'll go wanderin' through your cities into the bars where I feel at home.
So please don't build me a sanctuary, an ossuary with the bones of men. Tear down your marquees, sell back those palm trees, 'cuz what I got's free and it's always been. But I'll be standin' alone in the cold, dark night. I'll be knockin' on your crystal doors. I'll go wanderin' through your cities into the bars where I feel at home.
I'm gonna build me a sanctuary, a living temple with the hearts of men. Construct a marquee of grace-lit sinners arranged in letters that say 'Come on in.' And I'll be standin' high with my palms raised from the sky. I'll be shinin' like a diamond in the night. We'll be cryin', drinkin' the beauty of how we know it should've always been. We'll be cryin', drink in the beauty of how we know it should've always been.
