Somewhere South they are burying
what's left of their three year old daughter, meanwhile
the fisherman hasn't found tools to mend his hut and his heart, and
there is a boy who doesn't understand what the
big white men do to him every night, but
he gets money out of it anyway.

I'd already bled oceans for them the night before.

Sometime between dawn and yesterday morning
they were swept away by torrents
I knew they would be.
I swore they would be, so
when I found their bodies by the broken road,
I didn't shed a single tear.

I'd already bled oceans for them the night before.

But now I rest in the thought that
You are cleansing this place.
The pain is immense, but if that's what it'll take
do what You must
just
cleanse this place.