You look kinda like Jesus In those Italian paintings You seem so familiar, maybe that's why You're accustomed to sorrow It's part of your make-up You speak the language of hunger So do I, where was your God? Where was your mother? Where is the honor in hurting a child? Your blood on his hands A voice like thunder You won't give him the pleasure of seeing you cry Alabama boy inside a man Living your life the best that you can With a childhood full of not enough You could've chose hate but you chose love When you're in the room It's there on your face So clear to me that you're walking in Grace I'm always amazed at the things that you do You illuminate me And those around you And I don't even know you But I've know you forever We were forged by some holy fire Far away eyes Filled with sadness and joy Contradiction, benediction, Alabama boy There's a raft on the river It's sacred water Sparkling beneath a southern sky Little Boy Blue Part Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer Floating away with a dream in your eye