he screams into the waterfall
you can’t hear his woeful call
here’s a man not dead at all
although he’s surely tryin’
 
walks into the dusty sun
a hobo’s work is never done
offers water to the one
whose eyes are dry from cryin’
 
he works the mud beneath his heels
with the migrants in the fields
needs to know how jesus feels
upon his bed of straw
 
now many men might scoff and say
a hobo’s life is throw away
but what is the price they’d pay
to have his sense of awe?
 
singing, bellow
while the wind wraps round your head
no one needs to hear this song but he
all your life you’ve prayed for a song to raise the dead
a song to lift these shackles from your feet
 
never wagged his tongue in vain
never played the bitter game
when he prayed he shook like rain
falling on the sea
 
laughed at men of circumstance
tossed his body when he danced
played his best cards at romance
but he was always free
 
singing, bellow
while the wind wraps round your head
no one needs to hear this song but she
all your life you’ve prayed for a song to raise the dead
a song to lift these shackles from your feet
 
so gentlemen let’s not confuse
what we believe to be the truth
we got a lot left to lose
yet we are surely dyin’
 
he swam into the open sea
echoing a symphony
carrying the songs of he
whose eyes are dry from cryin’
 
singing, bellow
while the wind wraps round your head
no one needs to hear this song but he
all your life you’ve prayed for a song to raise the dead
a song to lift these shackles from your feet
 
singing, bellow
while the wind wraps round your head
no one needs to hear this song but she
all your life you’ve prayed for a song to raise the dead
a song to lift these shackles from your feet
a song to lift these shackles from your feet