On a street named for the president,
In the shadow of Plant's Pride,
A man is selling his own blood
Just to stay alive.
It's a twisted contradiction--
Selling lifeblood just to live,
But when you're on the street and homeless,
It's all you have to give.
Chorus:
I am standing,
I am standing,
I am standing in the rain,
But I am not clean--
I am to blame.
A shot is fired in Frenchtown and
A fifteen-year-old runs,
No one even notices the
Discharge of his gun.
It's just another junkie
With a monkey in his pipe,
Lying facedown on the pavement--
A dead stereotype.
Chorus
It's more than just the homeless
Or the crackheads on the street.
It's the hungry and the helpless
And the children we defeat.
If I am my brother's keeper,
Then I truly am ashamed.
It is falling all around me--
I am standing in the rain.