Hugh Blumenfeld This Mountain
This is not an age of faith This is not an age of miracles We don't believe anything they say We don't believe anything at all But when December grabs you by the throat Better look for something burning deep inside your coat >From the top of this mountain I can see Canaan The blue of the vineyard And gold of the grain Right across that river Candles flicker If I didn't know better I'd call it a dream The walls of Jericho And the walls of Jerusalem Came tumbling down long ago And they never got built again Will you stand in the rubble where the rocks and bullets whine Will you stand in the garden, reach your hand across the line >From the top of this mountain I can see Canaan The blue of the vineyard And gold of the grain Right across that river Candles flicker If I didn't know better I'd call it a dream In the eyeless streets of Gaza, In the shadow of the Golan Heights In the fortress of Masada, Through centuries of night One light was always burning Even when the fuel was gone One light was always burning --and the lights burn on... >From the top of this mountain I can see Canaan The blue of the vineyard And gold of the grain Right across that river Candles flicker If I didn't know better I'd call it a dream Copyright 1995, Hugh Blumenfeld / Hydrogen Jukebox Music
