| A child is born on the east side of town
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| With the world in his hands
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| His mother, an angel with no food to eat says
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| «Love is our last stand»
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| The child, he grows
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| Spreading hope through the world
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| With the love in his heart
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| His words get confused
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| And he cries as he sees his brothers
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| Tear themselves apart
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| She whispers that
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| «Mohammad is Jesus is Buddha
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| Is love is the way I see it Mohammad is Jesus is Buddha
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| Is love is the way I see it»
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| «I see it The way that I see it, alright
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| I see it The way that I see it, alright»
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| The boy has been dead for thousands of years
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| But we still sing his name
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| Forgetting his words we watch ourselves die
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| 'Cause we don’t seem the same, remember that
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| Mohammad is Jesus is Buddha
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| Is love is the way I see it Mohammad is Jesus is Buddha
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| Is love is the way I see it I see it The way that I see it, alright
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| I see it The way that I see it, alright |