Look at them working in the hot sun
   the pilloried saints and the fallen ones
   working and waiting for the night to come
   and waiting for a miracle
  
   Somewhere out there is a place that's cool
   where peace and balance are the rule
   working toward a future like some kind of mystic jewel
   and waiting for a miracle
  
   You rub your palm
   on the grimy pane
   in the hope that you can see
   You stand up proud
   you pretend you're strong
   in the hope that you can be
   like the ones who've cried
   like the ones who've died
   trying to set the angel in us free
   while they're waiting for a miracle
  
   Struggle for a dollar, scuffle for a dime
   step out from the past and try to hold the line
   so how come history takes such a long, long time
   When you're waiting for a miracle
  
   You rub your palm
   on the grimy pane...