It could be me,
Sleeping in a cardboard box as people pass by,
On busy streets,
Where no one stops to see if you’re even still alive, they just don’t have the time.
It wouldn’t take much for you and me to lose it all,
And be crying out for help
What do I do with knowing anyone can fall?
Do I stop to ask myself if…
It could be me that is the answer,
It could be me that lends a hand,
Maybe I’d see the arms of God move,
Just to find that I was them.
What if I’m part of the injustice?
What if I started to believe,
That there was even a solution?
What if I lived with the certainty,
It could be me?
It could be me
Entertaining angels though I’m unaware
And they can see
That faith amounts to nothing when we just pray prayers
but are never moved to care
Whenever I choose to love a stranger as my own,
Whenever I choose to help,
Am I not showing them the grace that I’ve been shown,
When I love them as myself…
We all rise and fall,
What hurts you, could hurts me
Everyone can bleed and needs mercy…
