| There’s a mother on her knees
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| Somewhere in San Francisco
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| Looking up and begging please
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| God, do not forget me now
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| Her baby’s on machines
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| 'Cause his heart can not keep beating
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| And she knows what desperate means
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| 'Cause the clock is ticking down, down
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| And hope rushed in like waves
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| That someone might just save the day
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| And if heaven’s just a prayer away
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| Then why she cries, would God not change things?
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| It may be miles and miles, before the journey’s clear
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| There may be rivers, may be oceans of tears
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| But the very hand that shields your eyes from understanding
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| Is the hand that will be holding you for miles
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| There’s another mother on her knees
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| Somewhere in San Francisco
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| Looking up and begging please
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| God, do not forget me now
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| It happened like a dream
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| He was laughing, he was running
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| And she heard the sirens scream
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| When her little boy fell down, down
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| And she had never known
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| The agony of letting go but
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| A few miles down the road
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| His heart would find a baby boy
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| Just in time
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| It may be miles and miles, before the journey’s clear
|
| There may be rivers, may be oceans of tears
|
| But the very hand that shields your eyes from understanding
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| Is the hand that will be holding you for miles
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| One moment someone whispers «thank you»
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| Just then another heart cries «How could you?»
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| When Jesus, who sees us, He says
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| «I hear you, I’m near you»
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| And the very hand that shields your eyes from understanding
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| Is the hand that will be holding you for miles |