Foreign Window

I saw you from a foreign window

Bearing down the sufferin' road

You were carryin' your burden

To the palace of the Lord

To the palace of the Lord

I spied you from a foreign window

When the lilacs were in bloom

And the sun shone through your window pane

To the place you kept your books

You were reading on your sofa

You were singin' every prayer

That the masters had instilled in you

Since Lord Byron loved despair

In the palace of the Lord

In the palace of the Lord

And if you get it right this time

You don't have to come back again

And if you get it right this time

There's no need to explain

I saw you from a foreign

Bearing down the sufferin' road

You were carryin' your burden

You were singing about Rimbaud

I was going down to Geneva

When the Kingdom had been found

I was giving you protection

From the loneliness of the crowd

In the palace of the Lord

In the palace of the Lord

They were giving you religion

Breaking bread and drinking wine

And you laid out on the green hills

Just like when you were a child

I saw you from a foreign window

You were trying to find your way back home

You were carrying your defects

Sleeping on a pallet on the floor

In the palace of the Lord

In the palace of the Lord

In the palace of the Lord