But how, oh few believe it, who will listen?

To whom will God reveal His saving power?

It was the will of the Lord that His servant

Should grow like a plant, taking root in dry ground



He had no beauty or majesty to make us notice Him

He wasn't attractive and nothing would draw us to Him

We ignored Him that He was nothing



He is the suffering servant, he is the son of God



It was our grief He bore

Our sorrows, that weighed Him down

And we thought His troubles

Were a punishment from God

But He was wounded and beaten for our sins

He was chastised that we might have peace

He was lashed, and we were healed



We are the ones

Who strayed away like sheep without shephard

We who left God's path to follow our own

God laid on Him guilt and sins of everyone of us



He was oppressed, and He was afflicted

He was brought as a lamb to the slaughter

But He opened not His mouth

He's the servant who is love

He's the servant who set us free

He is the suffering servant, the Son of God