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.