He lives in the outer parts never seen by high society.
Always hip on what the story is, he’s broke without a penny.
Filled with messages from the broken hearts, he knows their plight in the entirety.
Got the grip on every politic, he just wished there wasn’t any.
Robin Hood waiting for Marion, could it be that
all the good in the world’s is done.
It was everyone’s big wish we could find the shining sun.
I pray to God His staff and rod will guide us.
Lost forgotten is our man of arms, SYMPATHY FOR THE UNDERDOG.
He’s kicked and mocked and trampled on, empathy for the underdog.
He stands for Don Quixote’s song, SYMPATHY FOR THE UNDERDOG.
He hides in the forest deep with a rabbit amidst the wilds.
Gone away from all the world like ours to meditate upon it.
Filled with answers but shy he will keep till the moment is ripe and mild.
Every ear will turn and listen as He recites His lovely sonnets.
There he stood singing His passion’s song, could it be that
all the good has turned to wrong?
It was many days until a gong whence rang amongst this throng.
I summon God to pass along His wisdom.
Lost forgotten is our man of arms, SYMPATHY FOR THE UNDERDOG.
He’s kicked and mocked and trampled on, empathy for the underdog.
He stands for Don Quixote’s song, SYMPATHY FOR THE UNDERDOG.
Like a lightning bolt His Word will strike.
Shaking mountains and bursting dykes
flowing out upon a troubled world.
His soul will shine like a morning star.
My heart will be there for Him
always faithful through thick and thin
and justice will be rendered then
and hope will reach the dark and grim.
Lost forgotten is our man of arms, SYMPATHY FOR THE UNDERDOG.
He’s kicked and mocked and trampled on, empathy for the underdog.
He stands for Don Quixote’s song, SYMPATHY FOR THE UNDERDOG.