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