11 - God help the outcasts --- Bette Milder
I don't know if you can hear me or if you're even there
I don't know if you will listen to a humble prayer
They tell me I am just a outcast
I shouldn't speak to you
Still I see your face and wonder
Were you once a outcast too
God help the outcasts
Hungry from birth
Show them the mercy
They don't find on earth
The lost and forgotten
They look you still
God help the outcasts
Or nobody will
I ask for nothing, I can get by
But I know so many less lucky than I
God help the outcasts
The poor and down trod
I thought we all were
The children of god
I don't know if there's a reason
Why some are blessed some not
Why the few you seem to favor
They fear us, flee us
Try not to see us
God help the outcasts
The tattered, the Torn
Seeking an answer to why they were born
Winds of misfortune have blown them about
You made the outcasts
Don't cast them out
The poor and unlucky
The weak and the odd
I thought we all were
The children of god
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