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By the river where the captives prayed, The word of God was sent my way. Not with charms or painted walls, But with truth that clearly calls. “Son of man, arise and speak, Not the words the people seek— They want peace without the cost, But crooked paths will still be lost.” I am a watchman on the wall, I will warn before they fall. They build their hopes with shallow clay, Whitewashed words that wash away. I will call both near and far, Turn your hearts to where you are— A watchman on the wall, To testify of Him who calls. They say, “All is well, no need to fear,” But truth is sharper than the ear. They promise light with borrowed flame, But never speak repentance’s name. The Lord has not these visions sent, Nor sealed their words with covenant. Yet still the people love the lie That lets them pass the warning by. We are watchmen on the wall, We will speak before they fall. Not to wound, but to invite To higher ground and truer light. We will point to living stone, Not the walls they build alone— We are watchmen on the wall, To testify before they fall. Can these bones rise up again? Can the lost return as men? Can a scattered heart be sealed By a covenant once revealed? Only You can breathe new life, Only You can end the strife. From the four winds, Lord, we pray: Turn our hearts and lead the way. We are watchmen on the wall, Through the night we hear Your call. For a heart made clean and new, For a spirit firm and true, For a people who will stand On revealed and promised land— We are watchmen on the wall, Still proclaiming Heaven’s call. The Lord has named His dwelling place, Where truth and mercy interlace. A city built on word and way, Where living waters rise and stay. The gate stands open, light made clear— Repent, return: the Lord is here.