On the back page of the paper
Next to the ad for mobile homes
I read about my brother's keeper
And the kindness he had shown
To some helpless perfect stranger
Who cried out in his pain
And what the front page had taken from me
Was given back to me again
My thoughts turned to the teachers
And the champions of the weak
The protectors of the creatures
And the saints down on the street
All the helpers, all the healers
Who lay hands on wounded souls
And whose daily acts of mercy
Drive the cynic from my door
Countless times I've seen the wonders
That the gift of hope can bring
To the betrayed and the forgotten
Yet I stood watching in the wings
Too many times I heard the call
And did not answer, to my shame
But I swear from this day on
I will lend a helping hand.