In the foothills of the mountains Beneath a dark and clearing sky There's a face carved in the hillside That I seemed to recognize
Some say it's a warrior king Who died there long ago (But) I haven't seen it written So I can't tell how they know
Between the blessing and the curse The situation's worse There's no place called in between In any holy word I've seen And I wiil take my leading From each and and every morning verse My mind's made up, I gave it all up The blessing beats the curse
The heathen gather on the hill Their rituals to perform Blinded by their hatred They miss the coming storm
Holy spirit of perception Keep me safe in your protection The victory is ours this night Through your mighty resurrection