Somebody's Husband, Somebody's Son - Tom Russell

Out on the freight line there’s an old hobo camp

Where a drunk man lay sleepin' in a ragged old tram

And the lines on his face mark a life on the run

Is he somebody’s husband, somebody’s son?

Well every week the newspaper tells a story of rage

Where the victims lay scattered across the front page

And there’s always some loner, on a spree with a gun

Is he somebody’s husband, somebody’s son?

From the death rows of prison to the soup kitchen door

Each soul is an equal in the eyes of the Lord

Though hatred consumes them, once they were loved

They were somebody’s husband, somebody’s son

So out on your journey down the highways of life

Cherish your mother, crave the love of your wife

And forget not the outcast and the homeless were once

Somebody’s husband, somebody’s son

From the death rows of prison to the soup kitchen door

Each soul is an equal in the eyes of the Lord.

Though hatred consumes them, once they were loved

They were somebody’s husband, somebody’s son

They were somebody’s husband, somebody’s son

They were somebody’s husband, somebody’s son