Praise the lord
for he has sent
a little boy with no shoes
with breakable toys and bendable rules
take the boy, by the hand
ask him why he has no love
watch him look from where he stands
"what do you really mean by love?"
he has a fist, he has his bones
he earns his bread and builds his home
he was given days and ways
clever tricks and abundant greys
and the heart, it keeps him living
and the need forces
just the enough amount of giving
so he isn't always alone
what is love if you were born into the world -
on your own?
what is hope? what is faith?
my days never ended that way
what is trust when all i know
is broken homes and shoving snow?
try a soft hand on the brow
of the boy with no shoes now
watch the wrath, feel the hate
sometimes it really is too late
praise the lord
for he has shown
just why shoeless boys are born