Does it make a sound when the years go rushing by And our souls weighed down by bitter truth and sweeter lies Do I know you from somewhere? Have I told you that this is warfare? If we live to tell the tale, they'll find us back to back in the belly of a whale Lover of my youth, take my hand, this is not the Promised Land Whoa, home is a mountain where our mothers lay in rest We will work the stubborn soil, I will not tarry in my toil Whoa, sow the good, but reap the best If you could go back, would you still choose me? Is that not what we all ask? And it wakes us in our sleep But I've known you since I first met you, first laid eyes on the deep blue Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, I am shaking in my shoes but I have no regrets It's the harvest of a thousand choices, in a of a million voices I choose you, I'm singing with you It's the harvest of a thousand choices, in a of a million voices I choose you, I'm singing with you Lover of my youth, take my hand, this is not the Promised Land Whoa, home is a mountain where our children will be blessed We will work the stubborn soil, I will not tarry in my toil Whoa, whoa