you long to be free,
 but in this Godforsaken land
 you find no home, no family
 on the many roads that you've wandered
 since the day of your birth.
 You've become one of the last,
 lonely and wretched.

 Your hair is matted,
 your face and hands are dirty,
 and the years that you've toiled
 must number somewhere near thirty.
 The deepening of a sadness
 broke finally into madness.
 You are truly one of the last,
 lonely and wretched.

 Your eyes are wild and frightening
 at the same time they are blessed
 and I wonder if God died,
 turned his back or only just rested.
 And you walked out on the seventh day
 through the big gates and on your way
 to become one of the last,
 lonely and wretched.

 For once you were a child.
 Your cheeks were red,
 you were well fed.
 You laughed and played
 till you got teary,
 ran to your mother
 when you were weary.

 But somewhere you were forsaken
 alone I'll not bear the blame
 and somehow all was taken,
 your mind, your body, your name.
 Forgive us our unkindness,
 our desertion and our blindness,
 with you, all the last,
 lonely and wretched.
 Forgive us, all the last,
 lonely and wretched