Good God, if your song leaves our lips
If your work leaves our hands
Then we will be wanderers and vagabonds
They will stare and say how empty we are
How the freedom we had turned us up as dead men?
Let us be cold, make us weak
Let us, because we all have ears
Let us, because we all have eyes, good God
How they knew that this would happen
They knew, they knew that this would
(We're so run down)
Good God, can you still get us home
Still get us home!
How can we still get home?
I'm not dreaming
We're forgetting our forgiveness
