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Don't call me a stranger;
I need to feel at home;
I need to feel at home;
Especially when loneliness cools my heart.
Don't call me a stranger;
The soil we step on is the same;
But mine is not “the promised land”
Don't call me a stranger;
The color of my passport is different;
But the color of our blood is the same.
Don't call me a stranger;
The language I speak sounds different,
But the feelings it expresses are the same.
Don't call me a stranger;
I toil and struggle in your land;
And the sweat of our brows is the same.
Don't call me a stranger;
Borders, we created them;
And the separation that results is the same.
Don't call me a stranger;
I am just your friend;
But you do not know me yet.
Don't call me a stranger;
We cry for justice and peace in different ways
But our God is the same.
Comboni Missionaries of the Heart of Jesus,
Philippines, 1995
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