Last night
I heard a knock,
I opened  the door,
Found a  brown box
lying on the floor..

and in the box
a day old baby,
left in the cold,
he was there
with a note of despair…

walking on a tightrope,
pleading for hope…

 [bad word]   
It’s all about the children,
it’s not about us,
we shine with the beauty
of these rough diamonds,
we love and let go.

It’s all about the children,
born from our hearts,
spread the wings of angels,
time to let them grow,
then love and let go.

Last night,
I heard a knock,
he was standing there.
lost his hair
’cause the pain he could not bear.

Last night,
I heard a knock,
in a small pink cot
tied in chains
lay a baby in the rain.

Walking on a tightrope,
pleading for hope…

 [bad word] 
It’s all about the children,
it’s not about us,
we shine with the beauty
of these rough diamonds,
we love and let go.

It’s all about the children,
born from our hearts,
spread the wings of angels,
time to let them grow,
then love and let go.

When they are gone
we move on,
we try not to cry,
at the end of the day
they walk away,
time to say goodbye.

 [bad word]   
It’s all about the children,
it’s not about us,
we shine with the beauty
of these rough diamonds,
we love and let go.

It’s all about the children,
born from our hearts,
spread the wings of angels,
time to let them grow,
then love and let go.