From St.Christopher's housenInto the streets you set outnWith the dispossessed and the broken downnYou looked around and saw the neednDug in your heels, rolled up your sleevesnYou were no stranger to the refugeenAnd you wouldn't let the bully boys get you downnThese are your streets from the projects to the sums of ChinatownnFrom Denison square to the synagogue stepsnThe shopkeepers and merchants all families of immigrantsnnCharlyn, Charlyn, Angel of KensingtonnnLaundry hanging in the ally yardsnCats sunning on the hoods of parked carsnChildren messing 'round in the vacant lotsnFish market woman laughin' out loudnOld Portuguese men hanging 'roundnIn the ancient smoke of a local barnYou feeding birds right out of your handnOn the sidewalk cafe while the street preacher quotes old testamentnnCharlyn, Charlyn, Angel of KensingtonnnDown in Alexandra TownnI can almost hear the old steel drums ringing outnCourage take couragenFor every lonely soul that you lifted upnPushing out the walls of this neighbourhoodnI guess that's why they call you the angel of KensingtonnnCharlyn, Charlyn, Angel of KensingtonnnThis is your family, this is your family...