Mama reaches over and kisses Papa's cheek: "Throw another log on the fire,"
The children tucked away, a storm rages on: "Oh Lord, bless us as we sleep,"
Mama say's her prayers, Papa watched the news,
All is well in this Christian home,
Newsman tells us all, "Don't go out doors at all; weather's not fit for decent souls."

Oh Lord, where have we gone wrong, to make them feel like they don't belong'
Some decent souls haven't got a home,
Where are all God's children in the storm'

Mama reaches over and clutches Papa's breast: "Move a little closer, baby's crying,"
Huddled up in the corners, praying to survive: "Oh Lord, take away the cold,"
Newsman tells us all, "Don't go out doors at all; weather's not fit for decent souls."

Oh Lord, where have we gone wrong, to make them feel like they don't belong'
Some decent souls haven't got a home,
Where are all God's children in the storm'
Some decent souls haven't got a home,
Where are all God's children in the storm'

People in the streets cry out the same name,
Are we doing our all to ease the pain'
People in the streets cry out the same name,
Are we doing our all...are we doing our all to ease the pain'

Oh Lord, where have we gone wrong, to make them feel like they don't belong'
Some decent souls haven't got a home,
Where are all God's children in the storm'
Oh no, no, no,
Oh Lord, where have we gone wrong, to make them feel like they don't belong'
Some decent souls haven't got a home,
Some decent souls haven't got a home,
Where are all God's children in the storm'