Make no mistakes, my voice is clear
And though it may be a subtle threat: Mayflower, swing low because your love has such few regrets
We cannot distinguish all of the world. So celebrate and sing along. It is a gift. It’s where I belong.
Straight down and to the east, I place my hands out in front of me
We are ALL the crowd. To the sweet by and by I come. And to the crowd, be blessed. I swear I won’t let you choke. You give me nothing but rest and a loving hand. I belong to the war. I belong to your side.
And I can’t hold my breath, but I swear that I think this is the start. And that’s the nature of the beast

If we have nothing left but death. (Make no mistakes) It’s a clear but subtle threat.
The south is where I lay my sword (make no mistakes) and the stage is where my heart will rest.
We are the crowd