Joseph's face was black as night The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes His path was marked by the stars in the southern hemisphere And he walked his days under African skies This is the story of how we begin to remember This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein After the dream of falling and calling your name out These are the roots of rhythm, and the roots of rhythm remain ♪ In early memory Mission music was ringing 'round my nursery door I said take this child, Lord, from Tucson, Arizona Give her the wings to fly through Harmony, and she won't bother you no more This is the story of how we begin to remember This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein After the dream of falling and calling your name out These are the roots of rhythm, and the roots of rhythm remain ♪ Joseph's face was black as night The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes His path was marked by the stars in the southern hemisphere And he walked his days under African skies