If you're conceived on March 25th
Your might be born on Christmas
Nine months to the day exactly
And if you're lucky it's in a manger
Because no one wants you
Except your teenage mother
And an old man with a mule
Who keep you warm with their staring
And have never looked happier
To have you with them finally
Though they know they're being hunted
And must cross the desert alone
Confident and trembling as they are
To have you in their care
And you to go on sleeping there
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