Does it make a sound when the years go rushing by
And our souls weighed down by bitter truth and sweeter lies
Do I know you from somewhere? Have I told you that this is warfare?
If we live to tell the tale, they'll find us back to back in the belly of a whale
Lover of my youth, take my hand, this is not the Promised Land
Whoa, home is a mountain where our mothers lay in rest
We will work the stubborn soil, I will not tarry in my toil
Whoa, sow the good, but reap the best
If you could go back, would you still choose me?
Is that not what we all ask? And it wakes us in our sleep
But I've known you since I first met you, first laid eyes on the deep blue
Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, I am shaking in my shoes but I have no regrets
It's the harvest of a thousand choices, in a of a million voices
I choose you, I'm singing with you
It's the harvest of a thousand choices, in a of a million voices
I choose you, I'm singing with you
Lover of my youth, take my hand, this is not the Promised Land
Whoa, home is a mountain where our children will be blessed
We will work the stubborn soil, I will not tarry in my toil
Whoa, whoa

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