Someone's Praying for You

Living in a little brown house right beside the railroad tracks on this side of town.
Many a passerby, turning their noses and looking down-

Thinking themselves to be much better than I...
It is no wonder why.

Looking all around I see much decay.
A graveyard nearby, tumbled stones, no respects to pay...

Scattered and weathered old store buildings, covered in bars.
Empty houses, boarded up factories, many a broken down cars...

Broken bikes litter everywhere.
Clothes hanging over a railing, my own even worn and thread bare.

It wasn't always this way.
Once everyone came here to run, jump and play.

See over there just beyond that old and rusty fence, the fence around the graveyard.
That lot, overgrown, littered and worn, that used to be our play-yard.

See those houses all along my street...
Used to be houses of all my friends, visiting each other it was such a treat.

Sidewalks, still line the streets, near my little house, by the railroad tracks.

My friends all moved away.
The factory closed, now no one comes to play.

The old church still stands, but it's weathered and crumbling, a building full of decay.
So many have gone so far, so few have stayed to pray...

Now instead of children walking to another's home to play a dealer scuffles along passed.
Children now often hide, lest death come by a bullet that has strayed.

I'd like to leave my home, by the old railroad tracks.
But if I leave, who will pray for the ones who've fallen through all the cracks.

Unemployment rampant, depression rising.
Someone must with thought, the prayer bells of heaven ring.

Looking out my window, I see another soul shuffling along.
Turning, softly I close the window shade, and pray, for I know it will not be long.

Days are numbered, soon mine will be done.
Looking all around, I wonder how many souls have from this track been won.

Looking around I can see not many have taken thought for eternity.
Mockingly they sell their dope right in front of me.

Grown old now, I know there is not much I can do.
Tired now of warning of a payment coming due.

I turn and pray for mercy, mercy for each of you.
Believing yourselves wise, thinking you'll escape what will be due.

Choosing a wicked and evil way, you look at my little house and shout with glee.
Selling another rock, just one more, you'll soon be rich, so you tell me.

Sadly I turn away.
Knowing for your mercy I must pray.

To call the law would be no good, your face to them is well known.
Having been in and out of prison so many times, you don't worry if I hold the phone.

In and out, you've been.
Trouble seemingly does not faze you, not heeding a warning to turn from your sin.

Mercy, I pray for you.
Mercy I pray, this day, for you, and this is true.

As I lay dying, my last prayer will be just for you.
Praying that you'll turn from this life of rue-

Praying just for you, that God will be merciful to you...
Praying that God will save you, and lead you to serve Him true-

I can't stay my life is soon to be done.
But if to Christ you will turn I will have won.

Soon my body will be taken to lie amongst the fallen and crumbled stones.
Just the other side of that crumbled and rusting old fence, but all that will be staying is my bones.

My prayer for you my shuffling friend you'll soon know.
My prayer for you is that you will find your way home before the sand runs too low.