Labor of Love

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