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F#m7In the streets of New York City
ev'ry man B9can feel the cold.
F#m7And I don't want no pity,
but I wB9ant my story told.
When the lights shine down on me,
they shine on the little boy.
Is this way to make him pay;
be'ng born in a world of joy.
ButA like me
he dAmaj7on't know where he'll go wrong;
he won'tBm7 cry so many tears
tiDmll he findAs out why he don't belong like me.
there's Amaj7no room for us out there;
you can Bm7lose your hope and pride.
WhDmen it comes to broken dreams
you'F#m7ll get your share.
SometB9imes a mF#m7an brB9eaks down,
and the gF#m7ood thinB9g he is looking for
are crF#m7ushed into tB9he ground.
F#m7Get on up, look around;
can't yoB9u feel the wind of change?
GF#m7et on up, taste the air;
can't yB9ou see the wind of change;
Don't you understand what I'm sayin',
we need a god down there.
A man to lead us children,
take us from the valley of fear.
Make the lights shine down on us,
show us the road to go.
Help us survive, make us arrive,
teach us what we need to know.
But like me
he don't know where he'll go wrong;
he won't cry so many tears
till he finds out why he don't belong like me.
there's no room for us out there;
you can lose your hope and pride.
When it comes to broken dreams
you'll get your share.
Sometime a man breaks down,
and the good thing he is looking for
are crushed into the ground.
Get on up, look around;
can't you feel the wind of change?
Get on up, taste the air;
can't you see the wind of change;
Get on up ...
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