This is the house of bread, but we're starving now.
A wife and two hungry kids, will you tell me how am I to provide?
In this famine - with nothing to plow but rocks
I've got this piece of land here in Bethlehem
I'd leave it to my sons but they must grow to men to inherit -
They've got to survive - and there's nothing to plow but rocks.
Big rocks, small rocks
Great huge stones
Hot wind, dry wind
Call this home - we gotta go
This is the house of bread, but it ain't no more
God has withheld the rain and we've consumed the storehouse of seed -
There's nothing to eat and nothing to plant and nothing to plow - but
Big rocks, small rocks
Great huge stones
Big rocks, small rocks
Great huge stones
Pack up, ship out
Leave your home - leave your home
