Pound, you mighty guns of Wisdom!
Thunder justice through the night.
For I have joined the marching ranks,
A legacy of war to fight.
This ageless conflict now consumes me;
Every breath must be the Sword.
The putrid stench of rotting souls
Will never cease, but by the Word.
Chorus:
“A soldier finds peace in Jerusalem.
Within her walls, no threat of war.
There, he can lay his armor down,
While maidens sing their Song of Yah”
Exhausted from the battle journey,
My head still ringing, “Guerre à vie!”
I take my leave in a distant city,
A fortress un-foreknown to me.
As I approach this citadel,
I find its gates stand open wide.
The watch inquires my intent
And then I venture on inside.
Chorus:
“A soldier finds peace in Jerusalem.
Within her walls, no threat of war.
There, he can lay his armor down,
While maidens sing their Song of Yah”
Goodness paves her market streets!
The buyer, the seller together laugh.
Her flocks are tended carefully.
And in her hand, a faithful staff.
My midnight tavern tales of battle
Arouse her laughter, loud and long.
Yet, high above the noise and prattle,
She woos me with a siren’s song.
Chorus:
“Oh soldier, find peace in Jerusalem!
Within these walls, no threat of war.
Draw nearer, lay your armor down
And drink my maidens’ Song of Yah.”
Alas, the war has just begun.
Refreshed for battle I return
To fight with strength of soul renewed.
But in my heart a Song I yearn.
Still, I will battle to the end
(A soldier lives, he wages war).
But when I take my leave again,
I’ll run to open gates once more!
Chorus:
This soldier finds peace in Jerusalem.
Her walls, my lover’s strong embrace.
Behold, I lay my armor down.
Now, come and sing your Song of Grace!
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