The Suffering Servant (Isaiah 53)

The Father saw Him tender and pure
But in our eyes, there was no allure
We despised Him, forsook
We turned our backs, refused to look

Yet our grief weighed Him down;
Our sorrows, He bore
And we thought they were His sins
He was punished for

He was wounded and bruised for us;
He was whipped; He was beat
So we could be healed
And we could know peace

We were the ones
Who, like sheep, from God strayed
Yet on Him our guilt
And sin had been laid

He was oppressed and afflicted
Yet never spoke to defend
Like a lamb to the slaughter
Before those that condemned 

From prison and trial,
Then to His death, He was led
But who of us knew, that He
Suffered and died in our stead

He was buried like a criminal
In a rich man's grave
Yet He did no wrong
Nor an evil word did He say

Yet all of His suffering
Was part of God's plan
His death, the sacrifice
To bring forgiveness to man

So He shall live again
With a multitude of sons
God shall prosper in His plan
That His servant will have done

Thus His honour shall be great
Since He gave His life, His all
Shared the fate that we deserved
And pled with God for us all