Marshall McLean: songs and lyrics

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Poverty has no hands, she has no feet, but she has everything, she has no voice, she has no choice, she's just got me.

And I'll be your hands, and I'll be your feet, and I'll be your voice 'til your swallowed up in me...O Poverty.

and riches, he has hands, he has swift feet, with nowhere to go or to be, he has just one droning voice, with nothing to say or to teach, he's nothing like my old friend, poverty.

and my eyes have seen the glory of the tired and the poor, they are trampling through the vineyards for the things they must afford. Be swift my soul to carry them be swift to set 'em free, HIs truth is marching on, His truth is marching on.