TobyMac

We are, We are, arrrrrrrre
We are, We are, arrrrrrrre
We are, We are, arrrrrrrre
We are, We are, arrrrrrrre
We are the travalers
We look for the hour after
We are the strangers
We practically are dangers
We know all these rows here
They never seem to grow, well
It's not our predicament
So we aren't sick of it
We make are moves in mysterious ways
We'd rather burn up
Than stick to the shade
Not of this world
So we live on the run
And keep our eyes set on what is to come