(with the help of Rich Mullins)
I believe there is a place where people live in perfect peace, where there is food on every plate, where work is rewarded and rest is sweet. Where the color of your skin won't get you in or keep you out. Where justice reigns and truth finally wins its hard fought war against fear and doubt.
And everyone I know wants to go there too, but when I ask them how to do it they seem so confused. Do I turn to the left? Do I turn to the right? When I turn to the world they give me this advice:
They say "Girl, you just follow your heart," but my heart just leads me into my chest. They say "follow your nose," but the direction, it changes every time I go and turn my head. And they say, "Girl, you just follow your dreams," but my dreams are only misty notions.
Is there not some Father of hearts, or some Maker of noses? Maybe a Giver of dreams -- and can He be chosen? Could I just follow him?
I believe there'll come a time (Lord, I pray it's not too far off) there'll be no poverty or crime. There'll be no greed and we will learn how to love, and children will be safe in their homes. And there'll be no violence out on the streets, the old will not be left alone, and the strong will learn how to care for the weak.
And everyone I know hopes it comes real soon. But when I ask 'em where I'd find it they seem so confused. Do I find it in the day? Do I find it in the night? When I finally asked the world they gave me this advice:
They said "Girl, you just follow your heart," but my heart just led me into my chest. They said "follow your nose," but the direction, it changed, every time I went and turned my head. And they said, "Girl, you just follow your dreams," but my dreams were only misty notions.
But the Father of Hearts and the Maker of Noses, and the Giver of Dreams, is He the one I have chosen? Can I, will I follow Him?
And oh, I hear the voices of a million dreams. Then I wake in the world that I'm partly made of and the world that is partly of my own making. And oh, I hear the song of a heart set free, that will not be kept down by the fury and sound of a world that is wasting away, but keeps saying:
Yeah, the Father of Hearts and the Maker of Noses, and the Giver of Dreams -- He's the one I have chosen.
And I will try to follow Him.