Where the mothers of sonsnever cease their weeping



where the fathers of faith in the ground lie sleeping



where the seeds of time have a whirlwind reaping



oh

Jerusalem is.

Where the cobblestones

wet with the blood of ages



hear the echo of wheels turning hist'ry's pages -

where the cries of fools stilled the words of sages



oh

Jerusalem is.



'neath an olive tree branch anyone can listen

to the song of songs as the green leaves glisten.

Then a summer rain falls and the raindrops christen

what Jerusalem is.

And the river runs on and the world keeps turning



and the water's cold

tho the sands are burning



and the mountains know while we still are learning

what Jerusalem is.



Oh

when will tomorrow's sons

tomorrow's daughters

never taste of the bread cast upon the waters



and put down the sword that performed the slaughters

Where Jerusalem is ?



Where the cobblestones

wet with the blood of ages



hear the echo of wheels turning hist'ry's pages -

where the cries of fools stilled the words of sages



oh

Jerusalem is.



And the river

oh

the river runs and the world keeps turning

and the water's cold

tho the sands are burning



and the mountains know while we still are learning

what Jerusalem is.

And the river

oh

the river runs and the world keeps turning.