The
shepherds saw, up in the sky, amid a soft, warm light,
A
crowd of holy angels, singing through the night.
As
they sang for Baby Jesus, (a manger for a bed,)
I
wonder what they sang of, I wonder what they said.
I'm
sure it had to do with hope, with love, and perfect peace,
I'm
sure their voices rang out pure, without a single cease.
I
wonder if they practiced, for hours every day,
Or
if in that joyful moment, their hearts knew what to say?
Did
they have a soloist, or a chorister in charge,
Or
did they all have equal parts, the small up to the large?
Was
I up there with them? Was I in that heavenly throng?
Did
I barely murmur, or did I proudly sing along?
I
don't know if I was there, thousands of years ago,
But
as I sit here thinking, there's one thing that I know.
As
I live from day to day, a song I'll always repeat,
And
even if the times are hard, I'll never miss a beat.
Come
with me, join my song, and together we will sing,
The
same sweet song the angels sang to the King of everything.
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