Little ones, where have you gone?
Was it a war that stilled your voice?
No, it was your mother's choice.
Where was the doctor's healing hand when children died across the land?
Was it in search of saving life?
No, death came from his knife.
It's a dangerous, dangerous, dangerous place,
Dangerous, dangerous place to be these days.
Now five moths early you survive, but 'til you're born, well, you're not alive,
Convenience has a sacrifice, and children are the price.
It's a dangerous, dangerous, dangerous place,
A mother's womb is a dangerous place to be these days.
Little ones to him belong,
You are weak, and we were wrong,
Now we will never hear your voice, and it was our own choice.
Jesus loves me, this I know for the Bible tell me so,
Little ones to him belong,
They are weak but he is strong.