In the middle of it, doing what was right and well
Making those cast aside whole and there was no wonder
Only jealousy and condemnation, a hate enough to seek
And kill it, put out someone who would walk the edge
With sinners, someone who would not adhere to law
But love, dangerous because he criticized tradition
Have we not learned from the past which comes again 
It is not in the strictest adherence where the sacred is found
Or in the pushing of my own way, but in the silent places
Of the soul that listens beyond, far away in the healing 
Waters, or leaves drying every tear, holding the wounded