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The Three Wise Men are off to Bethlehem...
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| We three Kings of Orient are, bearing gifts we travel afar. Field and fountain, moor and mountain, following yonder star... | |
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In the stable with Jeebus...
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| Frankincense to offer have I; incense owns a Diety nigh; prayer and praising, all men raising, worship him, God most high. | |
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| Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume, breathes a life of gathering gloom; Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying, Sealed in the stone cold tomb. | |
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| Jeez! Who invited the miserable goth? | |
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