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All the streets are filled with laughter and light |
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And the music of the season |
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And the merchants windows are all bright |
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With the faces of the children |
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And the families hurrying to their homes |
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As the sky darkens and freezes |
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Theyll be gathering around the hearths and tales |
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Giving thanks for all |
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God's graces |
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And the birth of the rebel |
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JesusWell they call him by the |
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Prince of |
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PeaceAnd they call him by the |
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SaviorAnd they pray to him upon the seas |
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And in every bold endeavor |
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As they fill his churches with their pride and gold |
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And their faith in him increases |
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But they've turned the nature that |
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I worshipped in |
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From a temple to a robber's den |
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In the words of the rebel |
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JesusWe guard our world with locks and guns |
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And we guard our fine possessions |
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And once a year when |
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Christmas comes |
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We give to our relations |
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And perhaps we give a little to the poor |
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If the generosity should seize us |
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But if any one of us should interfere |
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In the business of why they are poor |
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They get the same as the rebel |
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JesusBut please forgive me if |
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I seemTo take the tone of judgement |
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For I've no wish to come between |
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This day and your enjoyment |
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In this life of hardship and of earthly toil |
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We have need for anything that frees us |
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So I bid you pleasure |
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And I bid you cheer |
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From a heathen and a pagan |
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On the side of the rebel |
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Jesus. |
