Through the tear in his shirt I can feel his hurt
a homeless man\' mumbles in my voice
Stigmatized eyes I avert, knowing we all red blood do spurt
We\'re a part of each other, not by choice
Where his hood had been I could see my skin
all children cry, and all people lie
In a convict\'s eyes, I recognize... in him my sin
All of us will have to die
Whether a cripple\'s walk or a president\'s talk
Both have a mother
each other we mock but we\'re of the same stalk
He is my brother