There is a helpless need for human touchnWe are smashed beneath, nOn hands and knees, pleadingnAnd it’s easier to look awaynAnd it’s easier to believe what they saynnThat you might see my side and for a minute give innThat we are weak and we are sufferingnThat you might see my side and for a minute give innnThere is a driving need to stamp us outnWe are made to be ignorant and quietnAs we give it up for nothingnAnd we leave it to be taken awaynnThat you might see my side and for a minute give innThat we are weak and we are sufferingnThat you might see my side and for a minute give innn