Mary had a little lamb
Whose fleece was white as snow,
And while she hoped that he'd stay small,
The lamb was sure to grow.
He'd grow to heal the lame and sick.
He'd make the blind man see.
He'd bring the dead to life again
And calm the stormy sea.
He'd grow to touch the leper's spots.
He'd feed the hungry soul.
He'd talk and eat with sinners.
The broken he'd make whole.
But then one day they'd call him "King"
Which was against the rule.
The leaders in a jealous rage
Planned a plot so cruel.
A kiss from one he knew and loved
Betrayed him in the night.
The little lamb whom Mary raised
Did not put up a fight.
The crowd yelled, "Crucify him!"
Though, before, they'd sung his praise.
"Kill him! Crucify!" they screamed
In a riotous-like craze.
They sheared him down to nothing,
Whipped him til he bled.
With a cross upon his back he walked,
A lamb to slaughter led.
Mary watched her little lamb
Mocked in public shame.
He hung there naked on a tree,
Bearing all their blame.
Mary's little lamb had come
To do the Father's will.
"Oh, Why have you forsaken me?"
He asked on Calvary's hill.
Then all at once the sky grew dark.
"It's finished" was his cry.
This little lamb that Mary had,
Was born that he would die,
And she might live!
For by his blood, he saved her soul;
His death had paid the price.
Yes, all her sins on him were laid,
The perfect sacrifice.
"Mary had a little lamb,"
The children sing with glee.
They ask, "Why did she love him so?"
"Because he first loved me."
With angel chorus, she now sings,
"Worthy the Lamb once slain!
Glory and honor to my King!
Forever, he will reign!"