Dark, cold Prison
I sit in this dungeon and wait for the light to come in
I hear footsteps and think this could be my beloved key
Who will bring my desired freedom
But the feet walk on past and I wonder how long I will last
Darkness enclosing around
Then from behind in this dark place, there's a cry and a face
Of new life entering into the filthly place
This cannot be, so I turn back around
Searching for light coming from the under the door
But the only light to behold is a splendid star shining down
On this dust and this dirt and this mold
A cold draft blows by and I turn my eyes from the sky
To the babe wrapped in rags, homeless child
They say this helpless one has answered the songs that were sung
"O come, O come, O Come! "

But I'm still aching for Freedom and Light
For Wholeness and Sight as I look in the face of the child
My dark doubt has won once more as I turn back to the door
To search for freedom in more practical ways

"I can wait, " I do say to myself, "another day. "
As day turns to day turns to day
I'll wait for the door to open up and for the light to fill up my cup
And I will gulp down my freedom and be whole and be whole! "
Maybe so... I really do not know
I do not know
I do not know
The baby cries
And I sigh
Knowing my choices are slim
I can sit here alone or turn and open my dark home
To the new life that is calling my name
Oh come, oh come oh come!