Oh little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie,
Above thy deep and restless sleep, a missile glideth by;
And over dark streets soundeth the mortar's deadly roar,
While children weep in shallow sleep for friends who are no more.
How silently their hope has gone away,
No laughter rings, no choir sings in shepherd's field this day.
The angels in the heavens are bushed in sad lament,
Messiah's home has been burned down by those to whom he was sent.
Oh sing for wholly innocents who hurled a hopeless stone,
Who ran from tank, who, wounded, sank in gutters all alone;
Their eyes by bullets blinded, their lungs by gasses burned,
In sad exile, the holy child knows Herod has returned.
O Holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us we pray,
Your love bring down on David's town, drive fear and hate away;
Awake the ire of nations, let justice be restored,
rebuild the peace in silent streets where once your love was born.