The Hunchback of Notre Dame: God Help the Outcasts (arr. for orchestra)

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.
But I know so many
Less lucky than I.

God help the outcasts,
The poor and downtrod.
I thought we all were
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 tired, the 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.