(John Kay)
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On the back page of the paper
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Next to the ad for mobile homes
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I read about my brother's keeper
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And the kindness he had shown
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To some helpless perfect stranger
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Who cried out in his pain
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And what the front page had taken from me
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Was given back to me again
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My thoughts turned to the teachers
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And the champions of the weak
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The protectors of the creatures
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And the saints down on the street
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All the helpers, all the healers
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Who lay hands on wounded souls
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And whose daily acts of mercy
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Drive the cynic from my door
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Countless times I've seen the wonders
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That the gift of hope can bring
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To the betrayed and the forgotten
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Yet I stood watching in the wings
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Too many times I heard the call
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And did not answer, to my shame
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But I swear from this day on
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I will lend a helping hand.
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The Back Page
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John Kay |