This Child

An empty swing is a sad thing
Waiting, lonely for a breeze
Where once beneath a dirt path lay
It's now a mess of grass and leaves
And a mother, out of habit
Turns to watch a child not there
Through eyes of hope she sees him swinging
His laughter answering her prayer

Chorus:
Could be your child; maybe my child
Could be her child; maybe his child
Let me tell you something, this child
Could be anybody's child
And that is what makes this child
Everybody's child

A father muddles through the traffic
Eyes, determined specks of fear
Sixty hours of work are nothing
To the strain of coming here
He's holding on the best he can
No, he doesn't have a choice
But when she smiles and takes his hand
Once more he lets his heart rejoice

Repeat Chorus

Bridge:
Others scan familiar headlines
Reading of one more statistic
Hold their own a little closer
Thankful to not be part of it
Never dreaming that someday
Fate could have its way
When suddenly this child
Is their child

Repeat Chorus