The Servant

from by James Delsono

/

lyrics

Who has believed one word we've said?
To whom has this story been revealed?
For he grew up before us as a tender plant,
and as a root sticking out of dry ground
He had no good looks or majesty,
No beauty to desire when him we see.
Despised he was, we hid our face before him
Respect? Please. We found him boring.

Yet surely, he bore OUR sickness
And carried with him all our suffering
And yet we thought HIS was the illness
When he carried inside all OUR wrongdoing.

He was oppressed - of that, please have no doubt
And yet, when afflicted, he did not make a sound.
As a lamb to the slaughter, he stayed ever silent
When took away, he was, by hate and judgement.
They made his grave with the wicked
And with the abandoned in his death
Although he had done nothing icky
Nor were ever lies said from his breath.

Yet surely, he bore OUR sickness
And carried with him all OUR suffering
And yet we thought that HIS was the illness
When he carried inside all OUR wrongdoing.

Oh yes, it pleased the world so much to bruise him
And cause him much cause for suffering
But after the dark night of his own soul
He will soon see his own offspring.
His hope is for the light and to be happy
For love's own pleasure to prosper in his heart
And, having taken on the pain of so many,
For him and his loved one never to be apart.

His hope is for the light and to be happy
For love's own pleasure to prosper in his heart
And, having taken on the pain of so many,
For him and his loved one never to be apart.

credits

from Greatest Hits, released July 1, 2020

license

all rights reserved

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