Rain

When I was a migrant crossing the desert plains
My daughter in a backpack that I’d made out of plants
My wife I left behind me with our baby at her breast
And her aging mother in an aging canvas tent
Go for help they begged with tears all in their eyes
In my homeless brethren sandals while nails rained from the skies

Our hands, our feet, our hearts, ain’t they all the same
If you were left out here with me, wouldn’t you feel the rain

When I was so thirsty living in my home
And the water taps gave out poison so I couldn’t drink none
When the neighbors all around me turned their thirsty eyes downtown
The company that carried the blame wouldn’t even hear us out

Our hands, our feet, our hearts, ain’t they all the same
If you were left out here with me, wouldn’t you feel the rain

When I was so sick and I couldn’t catch my breath
And all the air around me was tinted with my death
And no one could come near me and I was all alone
My pockets filled with money and nothing to spend it on

Our hands, our feet, our hearts, ain’t they all the same
If you were left out here with me, wouldn’t you feel the rain

When I was so helpless, I had lost my voice
And I was so frightened by all the hateful noise
When I couldn’t bear to raise my head above the safety of the mud
And I simply sank below the surface never to come up