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I knew a man who thanked God for the good things
His mind made clear by his terminal disease
And he wept for those who did not understand him
But his tears will be washed to the sea

There is a woman, lives in midtown Manhattan
And the lines in her face seem to speak
She forgives all the loved ones who put them there
And her tears will be washed to the sea

I'm not a man you might call optimistic
Sometimes it pains me to see what I see
But truth is a river that is sober and slow
And tears will be washed to the sea
And tears will be washed to the sea

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