Don't really have the courage To stand there I must stand Don't really have the temperament To lend a helping hand Don’t really know who sent me To raise my voice and say: May the lights in The Land of Plenty Shine on the truth some day.
I don’t know why I come here, Knowing as I do, What you really think of me, What I really think of you.
For the millions in a prison, That wealth has set apart ? For the Christ who has not risen, From the caverns of the heart ?
For the innermost decision, That we cannot but obey - For what’s left of our religion, I lift my voice and pray: May the lights in The Land of Plenty Shine on the truth some day.
I know I said I’d meet you, I’d meet you at the store, But I can’t buy it, baby. I can’t buy it anymore.
And I don’t really know who sent me, To raise my voice and say: May the lights in The Land of Plenty Shine on the truth some day.
I don’t know why I come here, knowing as I do, what you really think of me, what I really think of you.
For the innermost decision That we cannot but obey For what’s left of our religion I lift my voice and pray: May the lights in The Land of Plenty Shine on the truth some day.