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• Artiste: John Mark McMillan
• Titre: Baby Son
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
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We thought you'd come with a crown of gold A string of pearls and a cashmere robe We thought you'd clinch an iron fist And rain like fire on the politics But without a sword, no armored guard But common born in mother's arms The government now rests upon The shoulders of this baby son Have you no room inside your heart The inn is full, the out is dark Upon profane shines sacred sun Not ashamed to be one of us Without a sword, no armored guard But common born in mother's arms The government now rests upon The shoulders of this baby son Gloria, Allelu Christ the Lord We've longed for You Gloria, Allelu Christ the Lord We've longed for You Gloria, Allelu Christ the Lord We've longed for You Gloria, Allelu Christ the Lord We've longed for You