There’s a blood red circle
On the cold dark ground
And the rain is falling down
The church door’s thrown open
I can hear the organ’s song
But the congregation’s gone
Now the sweet bells of mercy
Drift through the evening trees
Young men on the corner
Like scattered leaves,
The empty streets
While my brother’s down on his knees
Come on, rise up!
Come on, rise up!
Come on, rise up!
Come on, rise up!
Come on, rise up!
Come on, rise up!
Come on, rise up!
Come on, rise up!
— My City of Ruins, Bruce Springsteen
A.