Up on the hillside you can see the cross shine Out in the alley hear the hungry dog whine You and I, friend, sit waiting for a sign See how the sunset makes the lake look like wine



Over the mountain I can hear myself called I want to come running but my window's too small The cliffs are so high and I might fall What were you saying? -- oh, it's nothing at all



Yes, the world's in convulsions and the weather is fine Buicks get bigger and five cents costs a dime I must get going, you know, there's not much time The road is waiting and I'm running out of rhyme Up on the hillside, see how the cross does shine