Tom Russell - Somebodys husband somebodys son

^DOut on the freight lines there's ^Gan old hobo ^Dcamp Where a drunk man lay sleeping, a ragged old ^Atramp ^DAnd the lines in his face mark a ^Glife on the ^Drun ^DIs he somebody's husband, ^Asomebody's ^Dson?

^DEvery week the newspaper tells a ^Gstory of ^Drage Where the victims lay scatterd all across the ^Afront page ^DAnd there's allways some loner on a ^Gspree with a ^Dgun ^DIs he somebody's husband, ^Asomebody's ^Dson

^GFrom the death rows of prison to the ^Dsoup kitchen door Each soul is an equal in the eyes of the ^Alord ^DThough hatred sonsumes them, ^Gonce they were ^Dloved ^DThey where somebody's husband, ^Asomebody's ^Dson

^DSo out on your journy down the ^Ghighway of ^Dlife Cherish your mother, crave the love of your ^Awife ^DAnd forget not the outcast and the ^Ghomeless were ^Donce ^Dsomebody's husband, ^Asomebody's ^Dson

^GFrom the death rows of prison to the ^Dsoup kitchen door Each soul is an equal in the eyes of the ^Alord ^DThough hatred sonsumes them, ^Gonce they were ^Dloved ^DThey where somebody's husband, ^Asomebody's ^Dson