Underneath we are all the same….
He prayed - it wasn’t my religion;
He ate - it wasn’t what I ate;
He spoke - it wasn’t my language;
He dressed - it wasn’t what I wore;
He took my hand - it wasn’t the colour of mine.
But when he laughed - it was how I laughed,
and when he cried - it was how I cried.
Underneath we are all the same….
