I've wept for those who suffer long. But how I weep for those who've gone
into rooms of grief and questioned wrong, but keep on killing.
It's in the soul to feel such things, but weak to watch without speaking.
Oh what mercy sadness brings, if God be willing.
There is a train that's heading straight to heaven's gate, to heaven's gate.
And on the way, child and man and woman wait, watch and wait, for redemption day.
Fire rages in the streets and swallows everything it meets.
It's just an image often seen on television.
Come leaders, come you men of great, let us hear you pontificate.
Your many virtues laid to waste. And we aren't listening.
What do you have for us today?
Throw us a bone but save the plate on why we waited til so late.
Was there no oil to excavate?
No riches in trade for the fate of every person who died in hate?
Throw us a bone, you men of great.
There is a train that's heading straight to heaven's gate, to heaven's gate.
And on the way, child and man and woman wait, watch and wait, for redemption day.
It's buried in the countryside. It's exploding in the shells at night.
It's everywhere a baby cries. Freedom. Freedom. Freedom. Freedom. Freedom.