A city of a million lights— The clash of cymbals, trumpets loud— In Babylon's great towering heights I am but one amidst the crowd. I am but one, yet strong my cry Oh, mighty God, to cleanse my soul Within the sea of thy blue sky. I cannot see the whitecaps roll, And mass into the sunset's glow; I am imprisoned behind bars— Grey walls stand stiffly, row on row, And block away the light of stars. Like a dragon's grasping claw, The city breathing fire and greed Consumes my body in its maw— Upon my soul it strives to feed. But through the shriek of grinding mills, There comes the breath of scented pine— My heart is longing for high hills, As people dance and nightly dine. God send me then thy green field's peace— And from the city give release! |