Lyrics

Look up, look up, blow your horn, blow.
The angels are everything and the angels know.
Our shoulders are giving in to the load,
Our feet are dragging a wreck down the road.

When in roam, ramble around, ramble around.
That city of gold is never to be.
Oh, you are home, you are home,
You are home to me. You are home to me.

Our shoes are broken, our tokens taken,
Our spirit is shaken but not quite breaking.
We're breaking our backs with the burden of hope,
We've made a home at the end of the rope.

So easy to sing when the city is burning,
But where are the songs when the gears start turning?
I'm learning to turn it all over to you.
I'm learning to sing a different tune.