No more than a hundred years are we given

And we spend most of that to sruvive than barely living

As soon as we’re born, we’re starting to die, to be immortal is still just a lie

Running a race, no one is winning

Is it true in one man, we are forgiven

That he held our souls in his hands from the beginning

Or is this just one chance that we get to live our lives without regret

Pay no heed to whether or not we are sinning

Will we live forever, will the saints receive their crowns

Will we be remembered, when we’re six feet under the ground

Or can a short life, still make a mighty sound

All the wars and disease and the cries and pleas and the fearing

And the faith that we had long ago now disappearing

Millions of souls beg you to hear, for most of us you’re hardly near

We still pray, hoping you’re listening

Will this last forever, will our hopes and dreams be drowned

Our prayers never remembered as our tears soaked through the ground

Or can a small voice still make a mighty sound

Can a fearful heart still find courage when there’s no more faith to be found

Can a broken world, still make a mighty sound

Will we live forever, will the lost and last be found

Our sorrows never remembered, as every knee falls to the ground

And a short life will make a mighty

And a million voices will make a mighty

And a broken world will make a mighty sound