It was not a silent night, there was blood on the ground

You could hear a woman cry in the alleyway that night on the streets of David's town

And the stable was not clean and the cobblestones were cold

And little Mary full of grace with tears upon her face had no mother's 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 with every beat of her beautiful heart

It was a labor of love



Noble Joseph by her side, callused hands and weary eyes

No midwives to be found on the streets of David's town in the middle of the night

So he held her and he prayed, shafts of moonlight on his face

But the baby in her womb, he was the maker of the moon

He was the Author of the Faith that could make the mountains move



It was a labor of pain, it was a cold sky above

But for the girl on the ground in the dark with every beat of her beautiful heart

It was a labor of love



For little Mary full of grace, with tears on her face

It was a labor of love



It was not a silent night, on the streets of David's town