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.