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A shepherd stands to watch the sky,
a lamb in his arms and a staff at his feet.
A new star burns and the angels sing,
Alas a king, our king is born!
Ten lepers cry and fall to their knees,
for the Christ who can heal,
for the christ who will not shun the weak.
Such love He had, to raise the dead,
to comfort broken hearts and minds.
He walked with God through every day,
and blessed the beggars, blind and maimed.
And in a garden there He wept,
the sinners' wrongs upon His breast.
He suffered for man,
that they might live,
that they too might be comforted.
Below Him stands an angered crowd,
with twisted hearts and clouded minds.
With shouts of "Crucify Him!" came blood like rain,
from the thorns on His brow and the stripes on His back.
They took His body, bruised and torn,
and watched Him walk a crowded street.
The soldiers stand with mocking cries,
"Behold! Your King!"
And when He cannot carry on,
a man is taken from the crowd,
to carry the cross of the Savior,
the Christ who stood as a light in the storm,
the one who calmed the seas.
His mighty hands,
His flawless hands,
are pierced with nails,
are left to bleed.
On a cross He hangs,
the Firstborn Son,
the Savior, Redeemer, Messiah.
"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
Through pain and thunder,
He looks to the sky,
to where His father stands waiting.
Then His quiet voice cries,
"Into thy hands I commend my Spirit."
And the man, the man who walked with lepers,
the Lamb of God,
died, for me.