Good God, if your song leaves our lipsnIf your work leaves our handsnThen we will be wonderers and vagabondsnThey will stare and say how empty we arenHow the freedom we had turned us up as dead mennnLet us be cold, make us weaknLet us, because we all have earsnLet us, because we all have eyesnHow they knew that this would happennWe're so run downnGood God! Can you still get us homennHow can we still get homenI'm not dreamingnWe're forgetting our forgiveness