Migration

We're rising as the sun retreats into the trees Thinking of our destination as we start to leave Marching to the sea, we're marching to the sea Marching to the sea, we're marching to the sea Marching to the sea, we're marching to the sea Marching to the sea, marching to the sea Marching to the sea, we're marching to the sea Marching to the sea, marching to the sea Marching to the sea, we're marching to the sea Marching to the sea, marching to the sea Marching to the sea, we're marching to the sea Smiling from the gentle touches of the evening breeze And no one is unhappy now and no one is fatigued We're marching to the sea, marching to the sea I'm a tired old man in a tired old land Watching shadows moving across the sand Now they move at night and I understand That they cannot see more than they can stand I have been deceived, I have been murdered I have seen the soul of a unborn lamb It can burn a hole in a guilty man But it cannot stand in a foreign land We have left our lamb, we have left our land We have left behind all we understand Now we must cry out, yes, we must demand That children live in a land that's low Where the holes are deeper than light can go Let them have not pride but instead a soul That sees the shame of the hands that hold