Drivin' in from Roanoke, the time is passin' slowly,
The moment is suspended and the road goes driftin' by,
I keep thinkin' of the faces and the voices and the music,
And the thirst that we were led through all these miles to satisfy.
Some miles spin a story of a gleamin' golden future,
Some pass like a glarin' neon garden of delight,
Some miles sleep in shadow like a portrait in the attic,
And some are an illusion like a phantom in the night.
We all thought the sky would open in some dreamy distant future,
But our time has come today and we are strong.
We will seek to prime the pump from any fount of useful wisdom,
We will storm the gates of heaven with our song,
Storm the gates of heaven with our song.
Half a hundred singers singin' half a thousand songs,
Half a million pictures in the lightnin' in the sky,
Half a world away there is a newborn baby bawlin',
Just across the table is a man who's bound to die.
But the truth will be your witness if you dare to tell your story,
Beauty is your lover when you dare to sing your song,
Anywhere the heart is seekin' solace for another,
Everywhere you're livin' is the place where you belong.
Deep within the heart there is a flame that burns forever,
Deep within the mind there is a dream nobody knows,
In the shadows of the soul there is a light that keeps on searchin',
As the miracle meanders where the crooked river flows.