Can you hear the prayer of the children, 
On bended knee in the shadow of an unknown room?
Empty eyes with no more tears to cry, 
Turning heavenward for the light.

 

Crying Jesus, help me to see the morning light - of one more day!
But if I should die before I wake, I pray my soul to take.

 

When you feel the hearts of the children, 
Aching for home - for something of their very own.
Reaching hands with nothing to hold onto, 
But hope for a better day - a better day.

 

Crying Jesus, help me to feel the love again - in my own land. 
But, if unknown roads lead away from home, give me loving arms - free from harm.

 

Can you hear the voice of the children, 
Softly pleading for silence in a shattered world? 
Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate - 
Blood of the innocent, is on their hands.

 

Crying Jesus, help me to feel the sun again - upon my face. 
For when darkness clears, I know you are near, bringing peace again.