home from the hill

now where we find ourselves that place we claim
we are a folk but we'll not be named a flock
the things we do are done in our good name

the rain that comes will never douse the flame
the water rubs but cannot break the rock
now where we find ourselves that place we claim

whatever happens there will be no blame
we turn the corner and we change our block
the things we do are done in our good name

the archer and the gunman take their aim
their time will not be measured by the clock
now where we find ourselves that place we claim

the forest's small but still is wild not tame
we listen every day for the harsh knock
the things we do are done in our good name

all in the end will show not pride nor shame
at night we close the door and turn the lock
now where we find ourselves that place we claim
the things we do are done in our good name