In the foothills of the mountains
Beneath a dark and clearing sky
There's a face carved in the hillside
That I seemed to recognize
Some say it's a warrior king
Who died there long ago
(But) I haven't seen it written
So I can't tell how they know
Between the blessing and the curse
The situation's worse
There's no place called in between
In any holy word I've seen
And I wiil take my leading
From each and and every morning verse
My mind's made up, I gave it all up
The blessing beats the curse
The heathen gather on the hill
Their rituals to perform
Blinded by their hatred
They miss the coming storm
Holy spirit of perception
Keep me safe in your protection
The victory is ours this night
Through your mighty resurrection