When I caught the eyes of a broken man
On a cardboard bed with his gloveless hands
I was taken back to that bloodstained sand
In the place where love opened up his hands
Oh how it hurts to be where love doesn’t sing, it screams
And gives what it cannot keep to weep with the least of these
I feel the warmth of that bloodstained sun
As it rises up from the ash and dust
Now the dawning light sheds the crimson hue
And it lights the bones of this old man too
Oh how it hurts to be where love doesn’t sing, it screams
And gives what it cannot keep to weep with the least of these
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