| Could we all be dreaming | |
| Of the suffering, forming clouds on our feelings? | |
| Could the wars be in our heads? | |
| Could our children be safe in their beds? | |
| Oh, where will I be when I wake up? | |
| Oh, will I be returning home? | |
| To the questions burning a hole | |
| In my heart that's turning to stone | |
| When I wake up where will I return? | |
| Could this be our punishment? | |
| The floods and fires, the bombs and liars | |
| For our Mother's discontent | |
| Could production be a slave | |
| To the devil on a full rampage? | |
| Oh where will I be when I wake up? | |
| Oh, will I be returning home? | |
| To the questions burning a hole | |
| In my heart that is turning to stone | |
| When I wake up where will I return? | |
| Where will I return? | |
| Where will I return? | |
| Where will I return? | |
| Where will I return? | |
| Will I be returning? | |
| Oh, will I be returning home? | |
| To the questions burning a hole | |
| In my heart that is turning stone | |
| Will I be returning home? | |
| When I wake up where will I return? |