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There's a thing they say in our town, |
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If it happens once it'll come around again. |
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Never in the same place, again. |
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Never with the same face, again. |
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Can you feel the movement like an earthquake. |
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And the heavens tremble |
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As we do the shake again. |
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Never get the message, again. |
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We memorize the passage, listen |
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Who'll play the pipes, sound the trumpets loud, |
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Turn the amps on high, bring it to the crowd. |
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Let the people know, put it in a song, |
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Here comes the final day and it won't be long. |
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Wake up, get up, stand up, catch up again. |
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Writing's on the wall, again. |
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Can you hear the call, listen. |
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Who'll play the pipes, sound the trumpets loud, |
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Turn the amps on high, bring it to the crowd. |
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Let the people know, put it in a song, |
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Here comes the final day and it won't be long. |
