Call To War

Tables prepared and streets of gold
You bed your tears from stories told
Stage is set so we can fly
But times are set and hearts are wild

Till a southern wind puts me six feet down
My feet won't rest until my love is found

Remember when the mountains fell
Like pennies down a wishing well
Wish another day would come
When I would march them far from home

Till a southern wind puts me six feet down
My feet will march on holy ground

Our laboring may end in vain
While we walk the fields of the slain
When called to war from trumpets tall
Love will see the armies fall

When called to war from trumpets tall
Love will see the armies fall