There is a blood red circle
On the cold dark ground
And the rain is falling down
The church door's thrown open
I can hear the organ's song
But the congregation's gone
My city of ruins
My city of ruins
Now the sweet bells of mercy
Drift through the evening trees
Young men on the corner
Like scattered leaves,
The boarded up windows,
The empty streets
While my brother's down on his knees
My city of ruins
My city of ruins
Come on, rise up! Come on, rise up!
Come on, rise up! Come on, rise up!
Come on, rise up! Come on, rise up!
Now's there's tears on the pillow
Darlin' where we slept
And you took my heart when you left
Without your sweet kiss
My soul is lost, my friend
Tell me how do I begin again?
My city's in ruins
My city's in ruins
Now with these hands,
With these hands,
With these hands,
I pray Lord
With these hands,
With these hands,
I pray for the strength, Lord
With these hands,
With these hands,
I pray for the faith, Lord
We pray for your love, Lord
We pray for the lost, Lord
We pray for this world, Lord
We pray for the strength, Lord
We pray for the strength, Lord
Come on
Come on
Come on, rise up
Come on, rise up
Come on, rise up
Come on, rise up
Come on, rise up
Come on, rise up
Come on, rise up
Come on, rise up
Come on, rise up
For those who would say the boss hasn't produced anything great since the 80's (they're talking rubbish!), this song stands as a great challenge. I say if the boss had only recorded this song since the 80's that would be enough.
It is the final track from the album 'The rising' which, except for this track interestingly, was written after september 11, 2001. The album is one of the most moving and nuanced commentaries on that event that has been produced.
This track is outstanding, and for our purposes is a perplexing testimony to the need for resurrection (It is almost a modern exposition of Ezekiel 37). The reality of death and desolation; the need for renewal and new birth; the powerlessness of man and the prayers for divine intervention are all beautifully witnessed. When connected to the september 11 attacks and the experience of New York as a city, the impact of the poetry is amplified.
We need a new land; a new place free from the evil, destruction and desolation of this world. How can we possibly get there?
"With these hands, I pray for the strength, Lord. With these hands, I pray for the faith, Lord. We pray for your love, Lord. We pray for the lost, Lord. We pray for this world, Lord."
