Who's the little man with the white arm band
And the red cross of Jesus on his sleeve?
On his face there's no expression, in his heart there is compassion,
Praying for peace and reprieve.
Turban ' round the head, picking up the dead;
Tending to the wounded and dying.
Never a trace of fear upon his face.
But deep inside his heart... he was crying!
He'd come all the way from old Bombay,
To fight for an Indian cause.
Though impartial was he, he never thought he'd be
Caught up in an African war.
Who could this little man be?
Who could this little man be?
Hiding his fears with his team of volunteers
Out in the firing line;
Carrying a stretcher he was called a body snatcher
But violence was the last thing on his mind.
Some people got him wrong but he was very strong;
Not afraid to face the powers that be.
Although he seemed quite meek and turned the other cheek
Had deep feelings for his bitter enemies.
Though he was from a different religion
Peace was his fervent call.
He could have been a Jew, a Sikh, a Moslem, or a Christian;
He wanted to unite them all.
Who could this little man be?
Who could this little man be?
Deep in his heart took the Boer folks' part
And their right to fight to be free.
Each day he would pray for a non-violent way.
That freedom in his own land would be.
Back in India he schemed for his ultimate dream;
As assassin's bullet then found its mark.
While leading folk to prayer near an Indian square.
The jewel of India stopped! Shining in the dark.
Who could this little man be?
With his dream that no one could see!
An India united and free!
Who could this little man be?
He was Mahatma Gandhi!