Lyrics
Of my innocence, you've no idea / Perpetually wandering pentitent of new Judea / You'll find your way home / From the Great Salt Lake back to Nauvoo / From the parapet, screamed thank my stars / She'd offered to buy gleaming Deseret for ten gold bars / And I had obliged / 'Cos you can't take the kingdom of heaven with you / If the words of the prophet are held to be true / Face up to your best mistakes / Hold close to the things you hate / All the headiest of god's own kind / Will gauge us upon ever-readiness for one sure sign / And patience abide / If the words of the prophet are held to be true / Holy writ from a page of the Deseret News / Face up to your best mistakes / Hold close to the things you hate / If the words of the prophet are held to be true / From the Great Salt Lake back to Nauvoo
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