Songwriters: Crow, Sheryl; Bottrell, Bill; Macleod, Brian
I walked the heat of seven hills
Endless talk of losing wills
Great highways in a constant melt
Men and women and children all have overbuilt
Buying bread and paying for none
Creatures of a waning sun
Teacher's hands are overrun
Clowns and gypsies all but gone
You make me wanna
Shine over Babylon
You make me wanna
Shine over Babylon
Freedoms etched on sacred pillars
Hollow stones on mindless filler
Can lead to madman oil drillers
Won't be long before we all are killers
Little boy lost way up the mountains
Cities drowning under boiling fountains
I dreamed of chilly, sunlit days
I was trembling in a golden haze
You make me wanna
Shine over Babylon
You make me wanna
Shine over Babylon
We celebrate the golden cow
Praise the bloated bank account
If there's a god where is he now
The precipice is slipping further out
Sanskrit message from the mount
Leave your possession, hope abounds
There's nothing here for you to cry about
We're all just followers from here on out
I take the stage, I walk the planks
I sing these songs with little thanks
I wait for shouts from crazy cranks
I stand amidst the brown shirt ranks
I found my way to alexandria
Where gurus bubble up on ganja
Scavengers, they run up and hand ya
All the junk that should have damned ya
You make me wanna
Shine over Babylon
You make me wanna
Shine over Babylon
If everything in life was free
You'd float in your own reverie
The things that you could never see
Seal the gap between you and me
You make me wanna
Shine over Babylon
You make me wanna
Shine over Babylon
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