Hear the Little Children


Hear the little children crying in the night,
Longing for a mother to hold them tight;
Can this be right?
Were they born just to die?

See the little children begging in the street,
Hungry little faces don't often eat;
It's quite a treat
To be born just to die.

Hear the little children, see the little children
Bound to slavery and to war;
What should we be thinking as their souls are shrinking,
What could be their suffering for?

All the little children wandering in the earth,
Do they ever wonder about their birth?
What is life worth
Being born just to die?

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