Relax in time,
from the pain you've been.
I don't know anything,
but I can read what's on your face.
Just on moment,
just one more to struggle.
We all want everything,
but we all can't fit in the door.
Seven tries,
head to wall,
hurts your head.
Sort of trust,
that you'll get.
What you paid for soon.
Seven tries,
head to wall,
just to get cut.
And it's only time,
it's what you make it.
I don't know what it brings.
Hope for the good, hope from despair.
A second, just on moment,
just one more to trust.
Some time you'll get to see,
you where you want to be.
Seven tries,
head to wall,
hurts your head.
Sort of trust,
that you'll get.
What you paid for soon.
Seven tries,
head to wall,
just to get cut.
It's what you break down.
It's just a second.
A thrown in towel is the first thing.
Can't tell if it's the time that your gonna throw.
Push through or you抣l never get,
to see what you gave up,
passed on.
Seven tries,
head to wall,
hurts your head.
Sort of trust,
that you'll get.
What you paid for soon.
Seven tries,
head to wall.What Child is this, who laid to rest,
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing.
Haste, haste to bring Him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
Why lies He in such mean estate
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christian, fear: for sinners here,
The silent Word is pleading.
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing.
Haste, haste to bring Him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
Nails, spear, shall pierce Him through,
The Cross be borne, for me, for you:
Hail, hail, the Word made flesh,
The Babe, the Son of Mary!
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing.
Haste, haste to bring Him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
So bring Him incense, gold and myrrh;
Come peasant, king to own Him.
The King of Kings salvation brings;
Let loving hearts enthrone Him.
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing.
Haste, haste to bring Him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
Raise, raise, the song on high,
The Virgin sings her lullaby:
Joy joy for Christ is born,
The Babe, the Son of Mary!
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing.
Haste, haste to bring Him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.