You might be a preacher Broadcasting on a satellite Miss Mamie's looking for an answer Watches your program every night Diamonds shine from your praying hands She sends you all the money she has Just to feel a little closer A little closer to gloryland You might be the president Take a lot of power in your hands Bend the laws to your advantage Drive your armies to a foreign land You say your cause is just Lie only if you must Just to keep them believing They're on their way to gloryland People keep believing, people keep deceiving Am I my brother's keeper? Am I my brother's keeper? You might be a young man Out of work in a war-torn town Streets you walked as a smiling child Are blown to rubble, death and infidels all around You're drinking thirst, eating hunger Praying to the east, and the mullah Is the only one you can trust Who gives himself in sacrifice Passes the gate to paradise... You walk into the market, cool wind across your face Virgin visions in your head and a bomb strapped to your waist Because it's all waiting there, somewhere far from here It's all waiting there, out there somewhere In gloryland Gloryland Out there somewhere in gloryland