If we can’t walk in love, we’re a noisy little gong
A bitter little song, that a bully sings out of key
If we can’t walk in peace, we'll forget about the least of these
The mother crying on her knees for her boy who’s locked away

There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice calling me

If we can’t walk in truth, we’ll be ruled by the passions of youth
Despised by the stupid things we do
We'll never ever live them down
If we can’t walk in grace, we’ll be defined by the patterns of this place
A filthy bitter city of waste, the world will never turn around

There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice calling me

There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice calling me

There’s a voice crying out for truth and the simple little joys that we found in youth
There’s a voice crying out in the streets, for the hungry and the broken to taste of peace

There’s a voice crying out for truth and the simple little joys that we found in youth
There’s a voice crying out in the streets, for the hungry and the broken to taste of peace

There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice calling me

There’s a voice calling me
There’s a voice calling me

There’s a voice
Calling me
Calling me