Sweet dreams my little amigo
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Barefoot and homeless in Rio De Janiero
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Sleepin' on the step of a church
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Whose doors are locked
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Livin' in a cardboard box
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Inside at the shrine
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The Priest sips fine wine
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Dines on fine food and looks for a sing
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No mother no father
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No shoes nor a bed
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No place to relax and rest his weary head
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Where his next meal will come from
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Nobody knows
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But everyone can see the church is covered in gold
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Wish I had a home
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With ten million rooms
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I'd open up the doors
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And let the street children through
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Wish that I could scoop
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All of those children in my arms
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And give the love they need
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And to protect them all from harm
|
|
Wish I had a home
|
With ten million rooms
|
I'd open up the doors
|
And let the street children through
|
Wish that I could scoop
|
All of those children in my arms
|
And give the love they need
|
And to protect them all from harm
|
|
Wish I had a home
|
With ten million rooms
|
I'd open up the doors
|
And let the street children through
|
Wish that I could scoop
|
All of those children in my arms
|
And give the love they need
|
And to protect them all from harm
|
|
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Street Children
|
Ian Brown |