Make no mistakes, my voice is clear. And though it may be
a subtle threat: Mayflower, swing low, because your love
has such few regrets.
We cannot distinguish all of the world. So celebrate and
sing along. It is a gift. It's where I belong.
Straight down and to the east, I place my hands out in
front of me. We are ALL the crowd. To the sweet by and by
I come.
To the crowd be blessed. I swear I won't let you choke.
You give me nothing but rest and a loving hand. I belong
to the war.
I belong to your side. I cant hold my breath but I swear
I think this is the start. That's the nature of the
beast.
If we have nothing left but death, it's a clear but
subtle threat.
'The south is where I lay my sword and the stage is where
my heart will rest'.
We are the crowd.