[Wendla:]
Mama who bore me
Mama who gave me
No way to handle things
Who made me so bad
Mama, the weeping
Mama, the angels
No sleep in Heaven, or Bethlehem
Some pray that one day
Christ will come a'-callinThey light a candle
And hope that it glows
And some just lie there
Crying for him to come and find them
But when he comes they don't know how to go
Mama who bore me
Mama who gave me
No way to handle things
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