Cult husband, cult wife Too many children, what a life Homeschooled in hard times Dirty hands collecting dimes He likes to wrestle, she loves to cook Who would have guessed they wrote a book
On the street it's bittersweet Without a car they can't go far Mending clothes they stay inside Heaven knows it's more than pride They're not the types to run and hide They're planning things, it's in their eyes
The team's redeemed, the tension mounts They have their dreams and that's what counts A heavy load both night and day They promised God they'd find a way A few more guns, a better aim For the little ones, a brand new game
