by Marcus Moody and Justin Rosolino
Her country was to be sweet land of liberty.
Her colors were to be autumn hair and eyes gray-green.
Oh the soul that grew inside, a life reflected under sleeping eyes
until the day of her debut, a loving Father was all she knew.
Blades of grace wet between her toes; among the many things she'd never
And though the sun shone so bright that day, upon her skin never fell a
Oh the pain her sweet momma knew, life's cruel new direction she'd never
want to choose.
The common thread between their lives; that one would choose while the other
I'm sorry for the way you feel.
Nothing before has ever been this real.
And she says, "little baby, can you come save me -
And exchange your life for mine?
My hands are tied now, and I've already tried now,
I'm sorry to say goodbye. I can't believe you have to die."
I'm reminded of another girl - from another time and from another world.
And though not married, found to be with child; a holy infant, so tender and
Praise this one who dwells within; he a loving sacrifice, and offering for
And like us all, he began as just a child, but he the only infant ever
heaven-sent to die.