A child is born on the east side of town With the world in his hands His mother, an angel with no food to eat says "Love is our last stand" The child, he grows Spreading hope through the world With the love in his heart His words get confused And he cries as he sees his brothers Tear themselves apart She whispers that "Mohammad is Jesus is Buddha Is love is the way I see it Mohammad is Jesus is Buddha Is love is the way I see it" "I see it The way that I see it, alright I see it The way that I see it, alright" The boy has been dead for thousands of years But we still sing his name Forgetting his words as we watch ourselves die 'Cause we don't seem the same, remember that Mohammad is Jesus is Buddha Is love is the way I see it Mohammad is Jesus is Buddha Is love is the way I see it I see it The way that I see it, alright I see it The way that I see it, alright