I never knew you, but you seemed to be, to me, a great man,
Wise as a serpent and gentle as a hillside's white lamb,
Still, I hear your voice and I see your choice: it's written on us.
I wish I'd known you, and learned the way to walk a narrow path,
But I am grateful that you left your words to follow, like a map,
Within this dark land, you gave a lamp by which we might see.
And we walk the ground that you shook,
And we read the words in your book,
And learn how to break our own ground,
All the lambs will roar beautiful sounds.
Still, I hear your voice and I see your choice: it's written on us.
And we walk the ground that you shook,
And we read the words in your book,
And learn how to break our own ground,
All the lambs will roar beautiful sounds.
