Here, have a dollar, in fact now brotherman, here have two Two dollars means a snack for me, but it means a big deal to you. Be strong, serve God only, know that if you do, beautiful heaven awaits. That's the poem I wrote for the first time, I saw a man with no clothes, no money, no plate. Mr Wendal, that's his name. No one ever knew his name 'cause he's a no one. Never thought twice about spending on a ole bum, Until I had the chance to really get to know one. Now that I know 'em, to give him money isn't charity. He gives me some knowledge, I buy him some shoes. And to think Blacks spend all their money on big colleges, Still most of yaw'll come out confused, go ahead, Mr. Wendal. Go ahead, Mr. Wendal. Mr. Wendal has freedom a free that you and I think is dumb. Free to be without the worries of a quick to diss society, For Mr. Wendal's a bum. His only worries are sickness and an occasional harassment, By the police and their chase. Uncivilized we call him but I just saw him eat off the food we waste. Civilization are we really civilized, yes or no who are we to judge? When thousands of innocent men could be brutally enslaved And killed over a racist grudge. Mr. Wendal has tried to warn us about our ways but we don't hear him talk. Is it his fault when we've gone too far, And we got this far 'cause on him we walk. Mr. Wendal a man, a human in flesh, but not by law. I feed you dignity to stand with pride realize that all in all you stand tall. Go ahead Mr. Wendal, Mr. Wendal Lord, Mr. Wendal. Mister Wendal, Mister Wendal. Mister Wendal, Mister Wendal.
Written by: THOMAS, TODD A.
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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