| When their journy began it was so close to dawn |
| Moonlight was still in the skies |
| So nobody knew and no-one could see |
| The sorrow yet love in their eyes |
| Maybe they hoped or maybe they prayed |
| That someday their people would learn |
| The truth of their lives and escape to the west |
| From where they could never return |
| In the heat of the day and the cold of the night |
| No-one was counting the cost |
| Of so many roads and so many miles |
| And so many wounds from the cross |
| Two lonely souls on a journey for life |
| Living their dream to be free |
| Did guidance divine lead them to where |
| The mountains reach down to the sea? |
| In those days when our nations were young |
| No-one could surely have known |
| How the lives of two people in love |
| Could be shrouded in tears for two thousand years |
| And all for a place to call home |
| They had to be strong in so many ways |
| Dividing the truth from the lies |
| To some they were strangers journeying west |
| But some saw the light in their eyes |
| Icons appeared at the places they stayed |
| Statues of of mother and child |
| Love had shone through in a world full of hate |
| When a young face of innocence smiled … |
| In those days when our nations were young |
| No-one could surely have known |
| How the lives of two people in love |
| Could be shrouded in tears for two thousand years |
| And all for a place to call home |
| In those days when our nations were young |
| No-one could surely have known |
| How the lives of two people in love |
| Could be shrouded in tears for two thousand years |
| And all for a place to call home |
| And all for a place to call home |