Don't really have the
courage To stand where I must stand. Don't really have the
temperament To lend a helping hand.
Don't really know who sent
me To raise my voice and say: May the lights in The Land of
Plenty Shine on the truth some day.
I don't know why I come
here, Knowing as I do, What you really think of me, What I really think
of you.
For the millions in the
prison, That wealth has set apart - For the Christ who has not
risen, From the caverns of the heart -
For the innermost
decision, That we cannot but obey - For what's left of our religion, I
lift my voice and pray: May the lights in The Land of Plenty Shine on the
truth some day.
I know I said I'd meet
you, I'd meet you at the store, But I can't buy it, baby. I can't buy
it anymore.
And I don't really know who
sent me, To raise my voice and say: May the lights in The Land of
Plenty Shine on the truth some day.
For the innermost
decision That we cannot but obey For what's left of our religion I lift
my voice and pray: May the lights in The Land of Plenty Shine on the truth
some day.
