| took a room in a house of gloom
|
| Somewhere I could hide my soul
|
| There I hoped to find a way to ease my mind
|
| Couldn’t face the gloom tomorrow
|
| I sat until the hours of three or four
|
| Thinking doesn’t help but seems
|
| I crept to bed and cried myself to sleep once more
|
| Then I had the wildest dream
|
| (Street called Hope) in a town named Freedom
|
| Where each clock is pointed to the hour of love
|
| Upon a street called Hope at the house of Welcome
|
| That’s where she opened the door of love
|
| When I awoke the following day
|
| Every doubt had left my mind
|
| My dream it taught me what the prophets say
|
| Those who seek will always find
|
| I ran down the stair and out in to the street
|
| Looking for the nearest phone
|
| We both said sorry and decided to meet
|
| To find ourselves a happy home
|
| You know we’re looking for a street called Hope
|
| In a town name Freedom
|
| Where each clock is pointed to the hour of love
|
| Upon a street called Hope at the house of Welcome
|
| That’s where she opened the door of love |