[Verse 1]
Yea, who would've thought I'd step inside this train station,
Then get hit with some inspiration? It's amazing.
The most beautiful pieces of art come from the ugliest situations,
So I praise Him, rejoicing in my suffering
Cause I know He's got a masterpiece in the making,
And I ain't scared of death nor Satan,
Cause I know whose hand that my name is engraved in,
This right here is a proper statement,
I am not the artist, I'm the canvas that He's painting,
Like I remember last year being homeless,
Sleeping on the air mattress, but on the phone with,
Three record labels, who to go with? I notice,
You like to fix things with them tools that are broken,
So when them dark nights hit his soul,
I know enough to know to trust you with what I don't.
[Hook]
Bad days, I suppose, too much for me to remember,
Let me back up, I'm too close, now I can see the whole picture.
You make something out of nothing, nothing
You make something out of nothing, nothing
[Verse 2]
Sitting back meditating on creation,
Thinking how you made everything out of Nathan,
What a statement, you sustain it,
Let there be, and there is, my brain can't contain this,
That's why the fame and the claim is so dangerous,
It'll make a heart sing that my name is the greatest,
So, Josh, Rich, Ray, Alex, Dave,
Call me to repentance if I ever go astray,
If that money ever get in the way, then I'll burn it,
The price for my soul is something I couldn't pay,
Sometimes I read them articles believing what they say,
Sweating my own press, God is so unimpressed,
Nah, I'm a mess, made out of dust,
To return to it upon death, my soul rests, and yet,
They making heroes out of the ones who been rescued,
Who cares if they remember my name if I forget you?
[Hook]
Bad days, I suppose, too much for me to remember,
Let me back up, I'm too close, now I can see the whole picture,
You make something out of nothing, nothing
You make something out of nothing, nothing
[Verse 3: Christon Gray]
Your ego's nothing,
I'm nothing much, but He knows something, ex nihilo,
He's next to zero,
He leans on nothing and nothing I want more than to hear those trumpets,
No nothing I want more than to hear those trumpets,
My earlobes jumping I feel so love sick,
Lot of us got ideas but still no substance,
And a lot of times I can see it but the mirror don't love Chris
[Hook]
Bad days, I suppose, too much for me to remember,
Let me back up, I'm too close, now I can see the whole picture,
You make something out of nothing, nothing
You make something out of nothing, nothing
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