Make no mistakes, my voice is clear. And though it may be 
a subtle threat: Mayflower, swing low, because your love 
has such few regrets.
We cannot distinguish all of the world. So celebrate and 
sing along. It is a gift. It's where I belong.
Straight down and to the east, I place my hands out in 
front of me. We are ALL the crowd. To the sweet by and by 
I come.
To the crowd be blessed. I swear I won't let you choke. 
You give me nothing but rest and a loving hand. I belong 
to the war.
I belong to your side. I cant hold my breath but I swear 
I think this is the start. That's the nature of the 
beast.
If we have nothing left but death, it's a clear but 
subtle threat.
'The south is where I lay my sword and the stage is where 
my heart will rest'.
We are the crowd.