How could it be, this baby in my arms, sleeping now so peacefully;
The Son of God, the angel said. How could it be?
Lord, I know he’s not my own, not of my flesh, not of my bones;
Still, Father, let this baby be the son of my love.
Father, show me where I fit into this plan of yours:
How can a man be father to the Son of God?
Lord, for all my life I’ve been a simple carpenter.
How can I raise a king? How can I raise a king?
He looks so small, his face and hands so fair
And when he cries the sun just seems to disappear.
But when he laughs, it shines again. How could it be?
Father, show me where I fit into this plan of yours:
How can a man be father to the Son of God?
Lord, for all my life I’ve been a simple carpenter.
How can I raise a king? How can I raise a king?
How could it be, this baby in my arms, sleeping now so peacefully;
The Son of God, the angel said. How could it be?
No comments:
Post a Comment