I have walked through the quiet towns, Seen the dust where the gardens drowned. Heard the prayers that the wind won't keep, Laid like stones where the dreamers sleep.
And the sky don't break, and the bells don't ring, And the old wounds ache, but we don't feel a thing. Oh, tell me now, is it written in the clay? Or can a hand still carve a brand-new way?
Let the earth tremble, let the ground give way,
Let the rivers rise up, let the sinners pray. If we are the fire, if we are the rain, Oh, love, let the world change.
I have wept where the fields won't grow, Held the hands of the cold and low. Told my shadow to stand up tall, Told my sorrow it won't take all.
And the stars don't shake, and the dawn don't cry, And the hands still break, and the lost still lie. Oh, tell me is it written in the clay? Or can a voice still sing the dark away?
Let the earth tremble, let the ground give way,
Let the rivers rise up, let the sinners pray. If we are the fire, if we are the rain, Oh, love, let the world change.
Let the voices roar like a raging tide, Let the weary stand, let the silent fight. Let the hands that built all the walls we see, Tear them down, set them free.
Let the earth tremble, let the ground give way, Let the rivers rise up, let the sinners pray. If we are the fire, if we are the rain, Oh, love, let the world change.
If we are the fire, if we are the rain,
Oh, love, let the world change