The land of Canaan lays covered in blood
Which mingles with sand and yellow dust;
A solemn initiation of a continuing life.
The Temple has long fallen and its ruins
Are much older than the silent millennia.

From east to west, from north to south,
Wandering feet make themselves known
In the sand, just for a while until the wind
In his great wisdom covers them away
And hides them from the millennia.

And ye, gentiles, be not harsh with the souls
Of the buried, for they knew not their mistakes.
Cherish every rock and tree giving you shelter
From the sun for which there is no cure
As it shines unto you for the millennia.

When the land of Canaan shall be finally yours,
When the waters start pouring from rich oases,
Will you finally be content and self-satisfied?
Will your pride allow your heart the freedom
It has sought for the empty millennia?

With the altar and the Temple rebuilt,
Will your ***** hands throw down the trowel?
Will you lay down your sword and face
The wretched generation of enlightened men
That has grown out of the motionless millennia?

And when the King shall call onto thee again,
Will you come at the error of your ways?
Will you bow, will you utter a frightened grace?
Will you show him the haggard face
You’ve tried to hide from his eyes for millennia?

Or will the broken city of Jerusalem,
Will it always be broken?