In the world that God has made
men are broken, men betrayed,
and the men who do these things
live as ministers and kings.
Bitter tears flow all around
while the drums of darkness sound,
and the men of greed and lust,
crush your glories in the dust.
Yet the rain falls on their heads,
and the sun shines in their eyes,
and the air that they breathe is sweet,
and the stars shine for them in the skies.
Will you rise and still their song?
Man has suffered them so long.
And how can you let them live
to despoil the world you give?
Will you call them by the rain
to return, be whole again?
Is your voice the wind's soft moan,
Are your stars the signposts home?
For the rain ....
Or perhaps the sign is ours
in the stars and sun and showers.
How much patience must we learn?
till we spend without return?
Help us see the light you place
in the hearts of all our race;
may we give, like you, to all,
and through us men hear your call.
For the rain falls on our heads,
and the sun shines in our eyes,
and the air that we breathe is sweet,
and the stars shine for all in the skies.