Whoo!
Well, I found my church in a hotel parking lot
Vacant signs for a vacant kind of heart
And I drove my car through a fast-food paradise
Neon lights, a British appetite
Whoa-oh-oh
Whoa-oh, we're all searching for grace
We're all searching for
In America
It's hysteria
Everyone has lost control
Can you feel it now?
People in the crowd
Well, religion left the building 'bout an hour ago
Well, some pray for fame and some for fortune
They say, "Play my song on the radio station"
And it must be nice to be a traveling man
With your feet on the ground and a guitar in your hand
Whoa-oh-oh
Whoa-oh, we're all searching for grace
C'mon, Orlando, c'mon
Whoa-oh-oh
Whoa-oh, we're all searching for grace
We're all searching for
In America
It's hysteria
Everyone has lost control
Can you feel it now?
People in the crowd
Well, religion left the building 'bout an hour ago
Well, I wanted to feel wanted
Like I had a contagious soul
And I wanted to feel wanted
Like I had a contagious soul
And I wanted to feel wanted
Like I had a contagious soul
And I wanted
And I wanted for you to please let me go
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB