Oh why can't we see what they see?
And why are the children left be,
without hope, without care,
placed in a world where people there,
can't remember what it's like to be a child.
At 53 he found a friend,
Someone who loved the child within.
He'd lived his life the best way that he could,
with no one to say he was loved or good.
So he grew up and became just like his daddy,
and he did the very things that he did.
No the child never did learn how to live.
Well, she left her home and was given a new family,
like the dirt you sweep under the rug and leave.
They did their best to mend her broken life.
They wiped her tears and hoped she'd be alright.
But one day to the children's horror,
she lay there lifeless, fallen on the floor.
She'd lived a long, tortured life of four.
Oh why can't we see what they see?
And why are the children left be,
without hope, without care,
placed in a world where people there,
can't remember what it's like to be a child.
If you listen very hard you can hear,
the cries of the children everywhere.
Some of them are old and some are new,
and don't forget the child inside of you.
For a wise man once said long ago,
you must hold the child and never let it go.
And if you can't do that, you will never go where he goes.
Oh why can't we see what they see?
And why are the children left be,
without hope, without care,
placed in a world where people there,
can't remember what it's like to be a child.
Without hope, without care,
placed in a world where people here,
can't remember what it's like to be a child. |