A Voice

If we can’t walk in love, we’re a noisy little gong
A bitter little song, that a bully sings out of key
If we can’t walk in peace, we’ll forget about the least of these
The mother crying on her knees for her boy who’s locked away
There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice calling me
If we can’t walk in truth, we’ll be ruled by the passions of youth
Despised by the stupid things we do
We’ll never ever live them down
If we can’t walk in grace, we’ll be defined by the patterns of this place
A filthy bitter city of waste, the world will never turn around
There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice crying out for truth and the simple little joys that we found
in youth
There’s a voice crying out in the streets, for the hungry and the broken to
taste of peace
There’s a voice crying out for truth and the simple little joys that we found
in youth
There’s a voice crying out in the streets, for the hungry and the broken to
taste of peace
There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice
Calling me
Calling me