Chris DeGarmo, Eddie Jackson, Scott Rockenfield, Geoff Tate, Michael Wilton)



Watching the sand fall,



listening for the knock

upon my door,

and waiting. . .

for Promised Land.



Standing neck deep in life,

my ring of brass

lay rusting on the floor.

Is this all?,

because it's not what I expected.



Somewhere along the way

friends I once held close

fled the fast lane.

I didn't notice,

I just had to make it.

head down, nose to the grindstone;

the kiss of life

placed on my brow

somehow slid to the ground

and lies buried six feet under.



Preaching from the floor again

the same old sad song,

"Bartender . . . bring another drink for their favorite son."



Where did it all go wrong?

What's the use in even holding on?

Here's to love, hate . . . and promises.



Almost called it today.

Turned to face "The Void"

numb with the suffering

and the question,

"Why am I. . . ?"

So many times I've

tried and failed to

gather my courage, reach again for that nail.

Life's been like

dragging feet through sand,

and never finding . . . Promised Land.



Preaching from the floor again

the same old sad song,

"Bartender . . . bring another drink for their favorite son."

Where did it all go wrong?

I feel like I'm dying.

Here's to love, to hate,

to promises and Promised Land lies