As the blind walk the blind through The blackness of freedom Who writes the songs We all will be singing Who writes the books where I lay my hand out open So to swear myself into your grace
As the blind walk the blind Down the borderless highway Who holds the chain, who bears the load Don’t you be fooled If my spirits are unbroken I’m told in the next life my fortune is owed
I’m warned not to preach if the sermon i have written Or stand on some soapbox I’ve built with my hands For those who preach well will be bought out by some industry That herds the golden cattle before insecure eyes
As the blind walk the blind through The blackness of freedom Who writes the songs We all will be singing Who writes the books where I lay my hand out open So to swear myself into your grace
