"Maybe if I just donít turn
The news on, it wonít happen."
Reality just doesnít work that way
The smoldering resentments burn
And flare up into violence;
If you donít watch, it happens anyway.
Hard as it is to hear
We canít close our ears to their cries
To the horror, their pain, and their fear,
And the sound a man makes when he dies.
Small hearts wrapped in luxury
To fill the holes where souls were meant
Sit back and set the world aflame for pride
Replacing lives with misery
They fill their gaps with pins and maps
ĎTil Death is only Madness satisfied.
Hard as it is to see,
We canít close our eyes to the flood
Of the flight of a whole race torn free,
From a countryside muddy with blood.
"Everythingís so far away,
The people dress so strangely there,
They must not be the same as me inside..."
"They chose to live their lives that way"
"Itís not my problem anyway..."
Their painís too much for us, and so we hide.
As much as it hurts to care,
We canít close our hearts to the hurt
To the shame that our whole race must bear
For the lives lying mute in the dirt.
We open up our homes and hearts,
Our eyes and ears, in fits and starts,
Until at length we see and hear and care,
For when you see the globe from space
You see no borderline or race
The world and we are one, so we must share.
As long as we live on one Earth,
We must live as the one race we are
To our deaths, from the time of our birth,
For we all hurt as one, near or far.
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