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As the snow flies On a cold and gray chicago mornin' A poor little baby child is born In the ghetto And his mama cries cause if theres one thing that she don't need Its another hungry mouth to feed In the ghetto
People, dont you understand? The child needs a helping hand Or he'll grow to be an angry young man some day Take a look at you and me, Are we too blind to see, Do we simply turn our heads And look the other way
Well the world turns And a hungry little boy with a runny nose Plays in the street as the cold wind blows In the ghetto
And his hunger burns So he starts to roam the streets at night And he learns how to steal And he learns how to fight In the ghetto
Then one night in desperation A young man breaks away He buys a gun, steals a car, Tries to run, but he don't get far And his mama cries
As a crowd gathers round an angry young man Face down on the street with a gun in his hand In the ghetto
As the young man dies, On a cold and gray chicago mornin, Another little baby child is born In the ghetto
Since we live in a world of absolutes, there is no "other" you have to shoose one of the two options:
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