In twilight’s fading glow, a voice stirs unseen,
It is the song of those from shadows gleaned.
They Walk with broken backs, hands worn and bruised,
Society’s edges, abandoned and used.
Is justice but a whispered prayer in the dark?
Or does it stand, a flame, a fierce spark?
To the powers that sleep in golden halls,
Hear now the cry from those who crawl.
......
All of these people I've seen many times before,
I know all of them by name and some, so much more.
But when I call to them, speak to them, or just pass by too,
They turn to me with blank eyes and ask:
"Who are you?"
All of these people I've known all my life,
I've seen when the prosper, been there through their strife,
But when I'm in trouble, and need support too,
They act like I'm a stranger, and ask:
......
In twilight’s fading glow, a voice stirs unseen,
It is the song of those from shadows gleaned.
They Walk with broken backs, hands worn and bruised,
Society’s edges, abandoned and used.
Is justice but a whispered prayer in the dark?
Or does it stand, a flame, a fierce spark?
To the powers that sleep in golden halls,
Hear now the cry from those who crawl.
......
All of these people I've seen many times before,
I know all of them by name and some, so much more.
But when I call to them, speak to them, or just pass by too,
They turn to me with blank eyes and ask:
"Who are you?"
All of these people I've known all my life,
I've seen when the prosper, been there through their strife,
But when I'm in trouble, and need support too,
They act like I'm a stranger, and ask:
......