Striving for the answer in fighting for the streets of gold,
Hope you're not forgotten; you wonder if you've killed your soul,
I've heard the words of judgment, but not from the one I know.

It falls down on me, it falls down on you: grace falls free,
The proud feel the need to work the loom, yet grace falls free.

Holding up to Heaven the winnings of your plough,
Look into the poor man, show him what he must do now,
You've got all the answers, but he's got a book that shows him how.

How it falls down on me, it falls down on you - you know grace falls free,
The proud feel the need to work the loom, yet grace falls free.

Think about the river, how it always flows,
They're still digging in the desert, but that's not where this river goes,
It's filled with all the living, and quenches every wanting soul.

It falls down on me, it falls down on you, yeah: grace falls free,
The proud feel the need to work the loom, yet grace falls free.