Kids lined up behind limestone walls
Those empty-handed saviors
When all our better angels fall
In a trust that runs too deep

We carry out our dreamings
With a kind and sparing truth
Oh the glory

To say it's hard is to say it's true
Next time we'll be stronger
So when I hold my hand to you
You can feel it in your endless sleep

You carry out your dreamings
With a kind and sparing truth
Oh the glory

Once there was a man so old
He'd cry and say the gods were too young
In his life more lifetimes spent
When I was barely earning one
He’d look to me for cause and rebirth
And I to him for markers
And when he died or said he died
I helped him like a son

I carried out his dreamings
With a kind and sparing truth
Oh the glory