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Lyrics

Wounded Kingdom
©2000 Barbara T. Webber

Wouldn't it be a loving world if all the prayers prayed were answered by the ones who prayed?
Wouldn't it be a loving world if all the ones who asked were those who gave?
Wouldn't it be a loving world, a wish come true for all of us who pray
if love filled the hurting void and held the wounded kingdom saved?

Look around the world and cry for people trapped outside of Camelot.
No daily bread, no blanket, not even one merciful chance.
Kings and knights cry indignantly and gesture at another's lot,
conspire to guard their coffers and thrust the diplomatic lance.

Holy God of many names, drain our moat of suffering.
Grant us bridges of healing strength to share your bread as our prayer.

Mother Teresa, living saint, feeds the hungered, dries the dying's tears.
Points to a deeper pain of the homeless heart, poorer than the poor.
The rich, the poor, the old, the lame, the never-had-a-chance-to-be.
With Mother's heart a-failing, it's now our crusade.

So churches stand around the world, spired silhouettes against the sky.
Marble and mahogany, dappled with the sun through stained art.
Robes and motions and litanies, collected throughout the years.
Neither riches nor history, can touch the wounded heart.

Holy God of many names, drain our moat of suffering.
Grant us bridges of healing strength to share your bread as our prayer.

Yes, it would be a loving world if all the prayers prayed were answered by the ones who pray.
Yes, it would be a loving world if all the one who asked were those who gave.
Yes, it would be a loving world, a wish come true for all of us who pray
when love fills the hurting void and holds the wounded kingdom saved
when love heals the hurting void and holds the wounded kingdom saved.