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 a 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.
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 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.