Where I'm from There's poverty All kinds of inequality Nobody comes here Nobody leaves Don't have to go far Even to see The Whipping Report In the library. Hear one voice Start singing In the dirt Twelve picks are ringing Nobody comes here Nobody leaves Don't have to go far Even to see 12 mortal men bound In a song of liberty. Don't have to go far The music I hear, Is 12 mortal men singing In ecstasy and fear. In my heart I see a crowd A thousand, souls marching and proud Everyone gathered Each one is loved.