I hear it in a minstrel wind, its crying out the tune Of a prophets only hope to tell the world He wrote it down on parchment, but alas no one believes Of the vision only one man could conceive He knows its true Will the people have the ears to hear or will they turn their heads And blind their eyes to the truth once again How is it that you know the seasons changing by the leaves But still you do not know that summers near? Its near So many teachers preach a lie to the sheep who need a guide They need a God that they can touch and see But only if your faith is strong and hope for the unseen Youll find peace amongst the tragedy Woe to those who hear not Woe to souls whove been bought Oh, its written on the page Woe to those who fear not Woe to souls whove been bought You dont see the ending of the age You wandered through the wilderness for forty years or more To lead you to the promised land, promised years before Yet still you bowed down to a calf you made with your own hands Have you still not learned a thing, the wickedness of man And oh, hands up to the sky And oh, the angel passes by One bowl for the wicked One bowl for the sea One bowl for the rivers Men screamed in agony The sun will then be darkened The moon will give no light The earthquakes will shake up the earth The terror in the night And oh, hands up to the sky And oh, watch the beast begin to rise Remember what Ive told you Remember what youve seen And tell the human race just what it means https://youtube/watch?v=in2fEq6apUs
Posted on: Fri, 03 Oct 2014 07:23:21 +0000