John, in the hour of the confession Within I had a vision And a fearful word. Trapped in the grasp of indecision My mouth became a prison And I couldn’t be heard.

CHORUS ✤ John the road is winding The mountains so blinding To look upon. John, it’s all that matters, Make straight when you shatter Every path we’ve known.

Your mother, a daughter of good lineage, Of the landless class percentage, Relived all her shame. Of age conceived a mortal treasure Who had no equal measure In deed or name.

CHORUS ✤

BRIDGE ✤ Come to us now Anyway anyhow, In a fire in a wind, With a mind to offend Every heart that’s grown cold Like the prophet of old.

CHORUS ✤