Where the mothers of sonsnever cease their weeping
where the fathers of faith in the ground lie sleeping
where the seeds of time have a whirlwind reaping
oh
Jerusalem is.
Where the cobblestones
wet with the blood of ages
hear the echo of wheels turning hist`ry`s pages -
where the cries of fools stilled the words of sages
oh
Jerusalem is.
`neath an olive tree branch anyone can listen
to the song of songs as the green leaves glisten.
Then a summer rain falls and the raindrops christen
what Jerusalem is.
And the river runs on and the world keeps turning
and the water`s cold
tho the sands are burning
and the mountains know while we still are learning
what Jerusalem is.
Oh
when will tomorrow`s sons
tomorrow`s daughters
never taste of the bread cast upon the waters
and put down the sword that performed the slaughters
Where Jerusalem is ?
Where the cobblestones
wet with the blood of ages
hear the echo of wheels turning hist`ry`s pages -
where the cries of fools stilled the words of sages
oh
Jerusalem is.
And the river
oh
the river runs and the world keeps turning
and the water`s cold
tho the sands are burning
and the mountains know while we still are learning
what Jerusalem is.
And the river
oh
the river runs and the world keeps turning.