| On a cold night, late December
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| As the snow fell to earth
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| That’s the one night, we remember
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| When a woman gave birth
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| And for miles and miles around
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| The baby’s cry was the only sound
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| Did He know the world was filled with pain
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| Could He feel all the hunger and the shame
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| Or did He know about the way He would die
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| And the reason why
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| Is that what made the baby cry?
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| Is that what made the baby cry?
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| As his Mother turned to hold Him
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| Her face filled with joy
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| He grew quiet when She told Him
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| He was more than just her baby boy
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| And for miles and miles around
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| Her lullaby was the only sound
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| Did She know the world was filled with pain
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| Could She feel all the hunger and the shame
|
| Or did She know about the way He would die
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| And the reason why
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| Is that what made Her baby cry?
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| Is that what made Her baby cry?
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| And as He fell asleep
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| She wiped away His tears
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| But the question still remains
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| Have we changed in two thousand years
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| Don’t you know the world is still in pain
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| Can’t you feel all the hunger and the shame
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| Did we forget about the way that He died
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| And the reason why
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| Would we still make the baby cry?
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| Would we still make the baby cry? |