Baby Son
John Mark McMillan
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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
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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