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