my city...she weeps...

I've ran those streets, and I've cried in those streets
Lived in those streets...and died in those streets
but a man cannot run from the memories he keeps
and I know deep within the streets, my city...she weeps...

Don't cry, Mile High, for your weary shall be free
The day will come, Thy kingdom come, when God's mercy you will see
The poor will be rich, and the hungry will be fed
for the Lamb of God is coming...let the streets run red
Blood is the color that will wash your soul clean
and clear every tear that your eyes have ever seen
Dear city, your children, they will have vision and voice
The only division will be divided and decided by choice
Rejoice in the Lord!...The keeper of the flame
who tends all your lost children, and he knows them all by name
The Shepherd knows his sheep just as the Father knows his Son
and he will leave the ninety-nine...to go and find the one
One lost and lonely and crying child
will not be left to wander all alone in the wild
Everyone will hear the trumpets, the resounding sound of drums
and the children will have shelter when New Jerusalem comes
Until then, my friend, I will share in your sorrow
Just know the lost of today are the found of tomorrow...