(Joy to the world the Lord is come)
Here was a man a man who was born in a small village the son of a peasant woman
He grew up in another small village
Until he reached the age of thirty he worked as a carpenter

Then for three years he was a traveling minister
But he never traveled more than two hundred miles from where he was born
And where he did go he usually walked
He never held political office he never wrote a book never bought a home

Never had a family he never went to college and he never set foot inside a big city
Yes here was a man
Though he never did one on the things usually associated with greatness
He had no credentials but himself he had nothing to do with this world

Except through the devine purpose that brought him to this world
While he was still a young man the tide of popular opinion turned against him
Most of his friends ran away one of them denied him
One of them betrayed him and turned him over to his enemies

Then he went through the mockery of a trial
And was nailed to a cross between two thieves
And even while he was dying his executioners gambled
For the only piece of property that he had in this world

And that was his robe his purple robe
When he was dead he was taken down from the cross
And laid in a borrowed grave provided by compassionate friends
More than nineteen centuries have come and gone

And today he's a centerpiece of the human race
Our leader in the column to human destiny
I think I'm well within the mark when I say that all of the armies that ever marched
All of the navies that ever sailed the seas

All of the legislative bodies that ever sat and all of the kings that ever reigned
All of them put together have not affected the life of man on this earth
So powerfully as that one solitary life
Here was a man (joy to the world the Lord is come)

Writer : RITTER, BOND
Copyright : Lyrics © VIDOR PUBLICATIONS, INC