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Street Children
by
Ian Brown
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Sweet dreams my little amigo Barefoot and homeless in Rio De Janiero Sleepin' on the step of a church Whose doors are locked Livin' in a cardboard box Inside at the shrine The Priest sips fine wine Dines on fine food and looks for a sing No mother no father No shoes nor a bed No place to relax and rest his weary head Where his next meal will come from Nobody knows But everyone can see the church is covered in gold 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 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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