Lingua   

That Kind of Grace

David Roth
Lingua: Inglese



Sunday morning, Birmingham, quiet in the church
Bombs were planted, House of God, children's blood on the cross
And your daughter, she was one, angel without wings
How could anyone forgive those who do such things

And when I sing Amazing Grace, your face is what I see
I hope someday that kind of grace will find its way through me

Friday evening in Mobile, klansmen killing time
Saw young Michael walking by, he would do just fine
Quiet student, mother's best, pleading for his life
Strung him up to make a point, sharper than a knife
Beulah Mae, his mother stood, people all around
In the courtroom listening, as the truth was found
From her mouth no curses fell, no profanity
"I would do to others what I'd have them do to me..."

And when I sing Amazing Grace, her face is what I see
I hope someday that kind of grace will find its way through me

Thursday afternoon in the car, turned the radio on
The verdict in Los Angeles, oh what have we done
Images of violence, yellow, black and white
Fifty-two dead, millions lost, who can win this fight
On the screen a face of tears, trembling through and through
One we've seen so many times beaten on the news
I could barely hear his words, full of fear and doubt
"People, we can't live like this, we've got to work this out

And when I sing Amazing Grace, that face is what I see
I hope someday that kind of grace will find its way through me


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