| I saw my brother in a stranger’s face
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| I saw my sister in a smile
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| My mother’s laughter in a far off place
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| My father’s footsteps in each mile
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| I thought I knew who my neighbor was
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| We didn’t need to be redeemed
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| Oh, what could I have been thinking of?
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| Was it all some kind of dream?
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| I saw my country in the hungry eyes
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| Of a million refugees
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| Between the rocks and the rising tide
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| As they were tossed across the sea
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| There was a time when we were them
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| Just as now they all are we
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| Was there an hour when we took them in?
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| Or was it all some kind of dream?
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| I saw the children in the holding pens
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| I saw the families ripped apart
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| And though I try I cannot begin
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| To know what it did inside their hearts
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| There was a time when we held them close
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| And weren’t so cruel, low, and mean
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| And we did good unto the least of those
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| Or was it all some kind of dream?
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| I saw justice with a tattered hem
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| I saw compassion on the run
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| But I saw dignity in spite of them
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| I prayed its day would finally come
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| There was a time when we chose our sides
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| And we refused to live between
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| We rose to fight for what we knew was right
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| Or was it all some kind of dream?
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| Last night I lay in my true love’s bed
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| And she lay there close beside
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| And we lay thinking ‘bout what lay ahead
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| And wondering if the sun would rise
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| For it seems that these are darker days
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| Than any others that we’ve seen
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| Oh, how we wished that we weren’t wide awake
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| And this was all some kind of dream
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| Oh, how we wished that we weren’t wide awake
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| And this was all some kind of dream |