Writer(s): Stephen Schwartz, Alan Menken

I don't know if you can hear me or if you're even there

I don't know if you will listen to a humble prayer

They tell me I am just an outcast

I shouldn't speak to you still

I see your face and wonder were you once an outcast too

God help the outcasts hungry from birth

Show them the mercy they don't find on earth

The lost and forgotten they look to you still

God help the outcasts or nobody will I ask for nothing

I can get by For I know so many less lucky than I

God help the outcasts

the poor and downtrod

I thought we all were the children of God

I don't know if there's a reason

why some are blessed some not

Why the few you seem to favor they fear us

flee us try not to see us

God help the outcasts the tattered and torn

Seeking an answer to why they were born

Winds of misfortune have blown them about

You made the outcasts don't cast them out

The poor and unlucky the weak and the odd

I thought we all were the children of God