Letras
He walked where the harmattan sings, red dust on his boots and hands
Whispered, Lord, show me what's already here, not the dream I planned
Found a forest sleeping under sand, roots like a buried choir
Took his knife to mercy, not to kill, just to set a new fire
He bent low by the thorny shoot, said, brother, have your chance
And the wind wrote hallelujahs in a scruffy farmer's dance
Small things, small things, that's how mountains move
A spared branch, a steady hand, a faithful groove
Well, peace starts small like rain on a thirsty leaf
Like a prayer in the morning, like a neighbor's wheat
They called him the chief of farmers, the crazy white man
The righteous infidel, the humble hero with a plan
But he said, it's God and the people, the roots and the rain
I'm just here to listen, to loosen every chain
World peace, world peace, one tender cut at a time
Where the least little mercy makes the whole earth rhyme
She rode shotgun through the back roads, laughter warm as bread
His wife kept time with a heartbeat drum, said grace before they fed
Shared tea beneath an acacia tree, kids kicking up the light
She held the map, he held the rope, they held each other tight
He'd fix a hinge before a speech, help stack wood for the night
Then point to green where brown once was, see faith can take a bite
Small sparks, small sparks, that's how fires start
A gentle word, a listening ear, a borrowed heart
Markets hum with birdsong now, wells mirror the sky
Grandmothers rest their backs, a bit less wood to haul, less cry
Men lean on hoes and tell the tale, we thought the land was dead
But the trees were dreaming underfoot, waiting to be led
He smiles, shy, eyes on the ground, palms open like a song
Work with what the maker gave, there's thunder in that calm
Small hands, small hands, making room for grace
A spared shoot, a farmer's laugh, a greener place
Clap it on the two and four, stomp it through the clay
Spare a shoot and spare a word and watch the desert sway
You lift a neighbor, lift a town, you sing, the hill's reply