I saw you from a foreign window   Bearing down the sufferin' road   You were carryin' your burden   To the palace of the Lord   To the palace of the Lord    I spied you from a foreign window   When the lilacs were in bloom       And the sun shone through your window pane   To the place you kept your books   You were reading on your sofa   You were singin' every prayer   That the masters had instilled in you   Since Lord Byron loved despair   In the palace of the Lord   In the palace of the Lord       Bridge:   And if you get it right this time   You don't have to come back again   And if you get it right this time   There's no need to explain       I saw you from a foreign   Bearing down the sufferin' road   You were carryin' your burden   You were singing about Rimbaud   I was going down to Geneva   When the Kingdom had been found   I was giving you protection   From the loneliness of the crowd   In the palace of the Lord   In the palace of the Lord       They were giving you religion   Breaking bread and drinking wine   And you laid out on the green hills   Just like when you were a child   I saw you from a foreign window   You were trying to find your way back home   You were carrying your defects   Sleeping on a pallet on the floor   In the palace of the Lord   In the palace of the Lord   In the palace of the Lord   Etc etc...