There are many prodigal sons,
On the city streets they run, 
Searching for shelter.

Just having faith,
Forsaken by their church,
Sights that make the heart lurch,
Wanting compassion.

The angels send down their tears for us,
The souls who can't help but mistrust.
They're not the hurt ones..
Save us Lord! from ourselves! 
We judge your people, when its not our job.
Help us to realize.

Walking the streets,
Recoil in discust,
All they want is someone to trust.
And to hold them.

Giving hearts,
Hold out their hands,
They're the ones who understand,
What we're here to do.

The angels send down their tears for us,
The souls who can't help but mistrust.
They're not the hurt ones..
Save us Lord! from ourselves!
We judge your people, when its not our job.
Help us to realize.

Only you can judge us Lord.
We're killing ourselves slowly,
By judging the lowly.
Our day is yet to come.