Christmas King
Our King has come an infant child, a wooden trough His throne
Dependent on His mother's love to see His body grow
His tiny fingers tightly curled, hands to heal the world
Emmanuel is with us now, God in flesh the living word

Mighty son of David
Holy Son of God
Feeble human baby
Come to give us hope

The shepherds kneel to worship Him, the shepherd of us all
The wisest kings are bowing to the wisest King to come
They gaze into His crystal eyes, shining like the sun
Crying from his blessed lungs, soon to cry, "It is done."

Mighty son of David
Holy Son of God
Feeble human baby
Come to give us hope

Our God has come to earth to die, a wooden cross His throne
We chose to kill our Christmas King His body laid in stone
But He won the keys of sin and Hell, defying death He rose
Our wretched blackened hearts now glisten white as snow
Mighty son of David
Holy Son of God
Feeble human baby
Blessed Christmas hope
We'll never be alone
The King is on His throne



*Matthew 2:1-12; Luke 2:1-21; John 1:1; Isaiah 1:18; Revelation 4:2