[Lament I] A vineyard was planted where the morning poured gold, Every stone was removed, every tender branch trained. The keeper waited for sweetness to fill the cup, But the cluster broke bitter and the press ran stained. [Refrain] What more could be done for the vine on the hill? Wild grapes answer mercy with violence still. [Lament II] House swallowed house and the poor lost the field, Wine drowned the song that true worship should yield. They named darkness light and made bitterness sweet, They praised crooked scales in the judge’s seat. [Hope Turn] The hedge will fall and the thorns take the rows, A distant roar gathers wherever the storm wind blows. Yet the Holy One stands when the proud branches fall, The vineyard remembers who planted it all. [Final Chorus] What more could be done for the vine on the hill? Wild grapes answer mercy with violence still. Yet the Holy One stands when the proud branches fall, The vineyard remembers who planted it all.