Calling Heaven
Michael W. Smith
What of the children who have never felt a love
Tender as the morning
Nursing the bruises
And the scars that never seem to go away
What of the babies who have never left the womb
Breathing in the lifeline
Angels in waiting-gone
Before they could be given wings to fly
Calling heaven
Seeking mercy
Tell me there's a place for these
What of the noble who are searching for the truth
With truest of intentions
And yet they're jaded by
Hypocrisies behind cathedral walls
What of the humble and the meek that knew despair
And never got their moment
But sacrificed a life of comfort
So that others knew no pain
Calling heaven
Seeking mercy
Tell me there's a place for these
What of the ones who call you Lord
But play the field
With faithless indecision
Forgive us father
For we truly do not know what we have done
Calling heaven
Seeking mercy
Tell me there's a place for these
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