[Verse 1] We’re brave when the ceiling is holding, when the ground stays where it belongs, we can laugh at the thought of a heaven when nothing on earth has gone wrong. We can swear there’s nobody listening, that the silence is proof enough— then the night puts its hand on the light switch, and suddenly silence gets tough. [Pre-Chorus] Faith isn’t born in a building, and doubt isn’t quite what it seems; funny what we start reaching toward when the dark gets between us and sleep. [Chorus] Everybody finds Jesus in a foxhole, when the dark leaves nowhere else to go; we can swear all our lives there’s no heaven, then look up when we’re dying below. All that certainty turns into pleading, all that silence becomes, answer me. Everybody finds Jesus in a foxhole when believing is all that is free. [Verse 2] It’s easy to call it a weakness from a safe little seat in the sun, but certainty changes its language when the body believes it might be done. Then suddenly names we abandoned come back like they never quite left, and mouths that said, nothing is out there, start asking the nothing for help. [Pre-Chorus] Terror makes terrible liars of the stories we swear that we know; something beneath all our thinking starts reaching for somewhere to go. [Chorus] Everybody finds Jesus in a foxhole, when the dark leaves nowhere else to go; we can swear all our lives there’s no heaven, then look up when we’re dying below. All that certainty turns into pleading, all that silence becomes, answer me. Everybody finds Jesus in a foxhole when believing is all that is free. [Bridge] Is it faith if it only comes frightened? Does it count if we whisper His name when the exits have all disappeared and survival has swallowed our shame? Does heaven resent being last choice, or know why we waited so long? Maybe God hears a prayer from a foxhole the same as He hears it in song. [Final Chorus] Everybody finds Jesus in a foxhole, when the dark leaves nowhere else to go; we can swear all our lives there’s no heaven, then look up when we’re dying below. All that certainty turns into pleading, all that silence becomes, answer me. Everybody finds Jesus in a foxhole when believing is all that is free.
