On the back page of the paper Next to the ad for mobile homes I read about my brother's keeper And the kindness he had shown To some helpless perfect stranger Who cried out in his pain And what the front page had taken from me Was given back to me again My thoughts turned to the teachers And the champions of the weak The protectors of the creatures And the saints down on the street All the helpers, all the healers Who lay hands on wounded souls And whose daily acts of mercy Drive the cynic from my door Countless times I've seen the wonders That the gift of hope can bring To the betrayed and the forgotten Yet I stood watching in the wings Too many times I heard the call And did not answer, to my shame But I swear from this day on I will lend a helping hand.