beyond this unkempt way,
a patch of meadows free and vast
where joy will rise and
chains will fall—a city clean
and forest green,
where the sun will rise and
never fall.
There is a crystal river flowing—
flowing clear and flowing bright,
where former things have passed away
and tears will never—
never fall.
And though this is our future still,
we kneel to this—
this finished throne,
for when we fall, again we will
stand tall
stand tall
stand tall along the way.