The ground was never solid
No shoulder to lean on or hand
to guide or help us understand
Just run to escape the quick sand
Such is the life of man
I'm tired of running
Through no man's land
Wading through a pile of mud
Dodging mosquitos and poison ivy
The rashes and bites make me bleed
Yet I believe someday that flowers will bud
By our blood
Then out of the crud the earth will be blessed
By the remnant seed all who confessed
That our sacrifice was not in vain
And those who heard them took heed
And forsook their lust and violence and greed
Then every man will live by the fruit of his deeds