St. James

A pillar of smoke is rising
In the sunset horizon,
And I am following it home.

Winter wind stinging my eyes, and
Pulling a cart full of supplies
Over hill and valley home.

And soon I will be where I can see
The warm walls of St. James.

Keep us safe from harm!
All the sin and worldly charms.
The wicked ways of desperate men.

From bleeding coughs and sores
That now have arrived upon our shores,
And race toward the other end.

And far be it from me
To question the mystery
Of the way in which He moves,...
Or to doubt His great love...

But ain't it a shame? We were wrong again!
And won't it be strange when all of it ends?
All the plans that we made were all destined for the drain.
And all that we gained was a waste.

And soon I will be where I can see
The warm walls of St. James.