Where I'm from
There's poverty
All kinds of inequality
Nobody comes here
Nobody leaves
Don't have to go far
Even to see
The Whipping Report
In the library.
Hear one voice
Start singing
In the dirt
Twelve picks are ringing
Nobody comes here
Nobody leaves
Don't have to go far
Even to see
12 mortal men bound
In a song of liberty.
Don't have to go far
The music I hear,
Is 12 mortal men singing
In ecstasy and fear.
In my heart
I see a crowd
A thousand, souls marching and proud
Everyone gathered
Each one is loved.

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