Oh, oh deep water black, and cold like the night. I stand with arms wide open, I've run a twisted mile. I'm a stranger in the eyes of the maker I could not see for the fog in my eyes, and i could not feel for the fear in my life. But from across the great divide, in the distance i saw light. Jean Baptiste walking to me with the maker. My body is bent and broken, by long and dangerous seas. But i cant work the fields of Abraham and turn my head away. I'm not a stranger in the hands of the maker. Brother John, have you seen the homeless daughters standing there, with broken wings? Well i have seen the flaming sword there, over east of eden, burning in the eyes of the maker burning in the eyes of the maker burning in the eyes of the maker oh river rise from your sleep oh river rise from your sleep oh river rise from your sleep