| I can see a bright light up the hill there |
| Way beyond my wishful reach |
| And I know my cousin lives there |
| And he looks a lot like me |
| For years as I watch him closely he watches back |
| And neither can tell what's on the other's mind |
| Is he about to come and get me |
| And stab a knife into my back |
| And it's getting darker now |
| And the light is dimming out |
| Mama see the swirly mountains sigh there |
| How in my dreams I climbed them high |
| To the land of milk and honey |
| That the people have turned to mud |
| I know a creek that runs from way up there |
| Wish it could tell me the sights and sounds it saw |
| Because for water there are no borders |
| Or so I thought before I dried |
| And it's getting darker now |
| And the light is dimming out |
| When all is worn out and gone |
| I'll think about a song |
| That echoes through fire and light |
| Above the changing sky a lullaby |
| Bringing a new dawn to us all |
| We'll raise a cup to life |
| But now we're all so tired |
| And at the far end of the line |
| We wish to sing our sons a lullaby |
| And it's getting darker now |
| And the light is dimming out |
