It was not a silent night
There was blood on the ground
You could hear a woman cry
In the alleway that night
On the streets of Davids town
And the stable was not clean
And the cobblestones were cold
Little mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
Had no Mothers hand to hold
It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
Every beat of her beautiful heart
Was a labor of love
Nobel Joseph by her side
Calloused hands, and weary eyes
There were no midwives to be found
In the streets of davids town
In the middle of the night
So he held her abd he prayed
Shafts of moonlight on his face
But the baby in the womb
He was the maker of the moon
He was the author of the faith
That could make the mountains move
Oohhh
It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the ground in the dark
Every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love
Little mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
Was a labor of love
It was not a silent night
On the streets of Davids town
Writer(s): Andrew Peterson
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