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.
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