Pilgrims gather on this shifting sand
To visit Jesus in his Promised Land
None of this belongs to any man
It belongs to this place
Dark clouds hover like a vulture's eye
Terror raining from an angry sky
Makes no difference to you or I
What we have to do
God forgive me if I bear a grudge
But history will be my judge
History will be my judge
History will be my judge
Fibres scratching from the trigger chord
God forbid I fall upon my sword
To think I'm here 'cos I was feeling bored
But that was long ago
Feel the metal breaking through my skin
Feel the cold and hear the thundering
On my face is a believer's grin
That nothing can remove
Give me hope and give me love
Give me earth and sky above
Bring me heaven 'cos I've had enough
But history will be my judge
History will be my judge
History will be my judge
Now my bones are working through the dirt
Nothing troubles me and nothing hurts
This hot dust has now become my church
Where I worship undisturbed
Someday freedom will release this land
Some say maybe that I played a hand
None of them will truly understand
What my brothers and I went through
Maybe they think we complain too much
But history will be my judge
History will be my judge
History will be my judge
History will be my judge
History will be my judge
