There are these key things that break my heart
Every time they fall upon my ear
That, in our hospitals, lives have a cost
That, in our schools, children get lost
…
As I walk along the streets I lift my feet
To trample upon a chips packet here, and
A cigarette butt there…
I don`t throw my own out there
But there are people to pick it up
See, now they can have a job.
…
People throw garbage on our streets,
Claiming to create jobs for those it suits
Without thought of the stolen dreams
Of them underneath the sunbeams
As they`re stuck in the repeat
Of being trampled under our feet
Like the trash we walk over instead
Of simply bending down to lend
Our support to the development
Of another`s potential intent
…
Water-bearers and wood-carriers broken beneath
A burden needless for them to heave
…
If only we will carry them ourselves
…
This…burden on my heart
For people lost to our loveless acts
Our excuses that we can`t do anything
Our empty words, they don`t need that offering
…
Simply an act of love…
Simply an act of love…
…
And one day we will hear the names
Of those lost in the fray
Caught up in cleaning our mess
Stuck settling for less
…
Theirs could be the names
Called to honour because they
Took care of our sick
And defend our weak
…
They gave rest to our tired
Made our children inspired
They taught our children in schools
Showed them the wisdom of rules
…
They fought for rights of the oppressed
Lifted the burdens of the stressed
Their names called to honour
Lifted on a banner
…
But now…
They are stuck
Cleaning messed left
By people claiming to create
Jobs for the jobless
They are stuck
Picking up trash
That are tramped on
As we believe that trash…
Picks up trash…
…
i…
I will no longer be walking on, over, past trash…
I am bending down, picking up, lifting the dreams
Of those left in our mess
So help me God
