I could pick up my luggage and be on my way,
And not even turn around and bother to stay,
I could leave you in the dark and never sway,
and leave you to sing alone in your mournful play.
But I think not like that and I help others,
Wether you like it or not, we're all sisters and brothers.
Maybe not in the same religion, you all and I,
But in the same race and mind, where we all can try.
I'll pick up your things as I give you a hand,
Maybe then we all can find our own "promised land."
But that will only come if you do the same for me,
and also with others, yes, everybody.