A church is burning
the flames rise higher
like hands that are praying a-glow in the sky
like hands that are praying the fire is saying,
“you can burn down my churches but i shall be free”.
Three hooded men thru the back road did creep
torches in their hands while the village lies asleep
down to the church where just hours before
voices were singing and hands were beating
and saying i won’t be a slave any more.
And a church is burning
the flames rise higher
like hands that are praying a-glow in the sky
like hands that are praying the fire is saying,
“you can burn down my churches but i shall be free”.
Three hooded men, their hands lit the spark
then they faded in the night and they vanished in the dark
and in the cold light of morning there’s nothing that remains
but the ashes of a bible and can of kerosene.
And a church is burning
the flames rise higher
like hands that are praying a-glow in the sky
like hands that are praying the fire is saying,
“you can burn down my churches but i shall be free”.
A church is more than just timber and stone
and freedom is a dark road when you’re walking it alone
but the future is now, and it’s time to take a stand
so the lost bells of freedom can ring out in my land.
And a church is burning
the flames rise higher
like hands that are praying a-glow in the sky
like hands that are praying the fire is saying
“you can burn down our churches but i shall be free.”