Jerusalem Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass

Where the mothers of sons never cease their weeping
Where the fathers of faith in the ground lie sleeping
Where the seeds of time have a whirlwind reaping

Oh, Jerusalem is
Where the cobblestones
Wet with the blood of ages

Hear the echo of wheels turning history's pages -
Where the cries of fools stilled the words of sages
Oh Jerusalem is

'neath an olive tree branch anyone can listen
To the song of songs as the green leaves glisten
Then a summer rain falls, and the raindrops christen
What Jerusalem is
And the river runs on and the world keeps turning

And the water's cold
Tho the sands are burning

And the mountains know while we still are learning
What Jerusalem is

Oh when will tomorrow's sons
Tomorrow's daughters
Never taste of the bread cast upon the waters