Hand over hand, I ascend in a land of soil that passes for stone.
Progress is slow, and all that I know is how much remains to be known.
Hunger and thirst become bad, become worse as the shadows around me grow long
But the pangs are for naught, for all that I've brought are my body, my spirit, my song.

And I'm miles from a friend or a phone, and the wind up here chills to the bone.
I could turn back, retrace every track, and still be no closer to home.

Day after day, over earth, over clay, I keep moving, a woman possessed.
Night after night, I await morning light and the chance to continue this quest.
Mile after mile, entranced all the while by these Badlands, half heaven, half hell
Climb after climb, I grow stronger each time, but never as strong as the spell.

And sometimes my prospects seem poor, for each peak that I reach leads to more.
How can your search ever come to an end if you don't know what you're looking for?

Hand over hand, I ascend in a land where nothing is set in stone.
Progress is slow, and all that I know is how little can ever be known.
Hunger and thirst are more blessing than curse: they remind me that I'm still alive
So I struggle and try, but the summit's so high, it's not certain I'll ever arrive.

And I'm miles from a friend or a phone, but I'm equally far from alone.
If the foundation beneath me gives way, God give me faith, God give me strength
If the foundation beneath me gives way, God give me faith in my own, in my own, in my own, in my own.