Stop tryna be God Hmm-hmm, hmm-hm That's not who you are That's just not your job Stop tryna be God, God 'Cause air traffic controls the landing Yeah, yeah yeah yeah

You're not the one You think you are Since you were born Ride a horse that's cleaving through The air and space of dreams Travelling through time All alone I pray Where am I? Who am I? And that old man trust in me