The Dreamer

 

In a time of great troubles, a leader will rise,

And in sorrow and anger, he will lift up his eyes,

From a flood of oppression, from a black toiling stream,

If he’ll go to the mountain, God will send him a dream…

If he’ll go to the mountain, God will send him a dream,

 

Through the cold northern cities, through the warm and weeping south

Words of hope, love and comfort pouring forth from his mouth,

“Blessed peace, blessed freedom in an unending stream,

If you’ll just love your brother”, preached the man with the dream…

“If you’ll just love your brother”, preached the man with the dream,

 

On the edge of dark waters your proud city stands,

With its white marble pillars and its black and calloused hands,

In a crack of loud thunder, midst the moans and the screams,

You can murder the dreamer, but you can’t kill his dream…

You can murder the dreamer, but you can’t kill his dream,

 

‘Cause he’d been to the mountain, and he’d seen the promised land,

And he held a bright future in the palm of his hand,

He saw the children of sorrow in an unbending stream,

And he smiled when he left them, ‘cause he left them his dream…

Yes, he smiled when he left them, ‘cause he left them his dream,

 

© Tim Henderson  1979