| Michael Card
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| Seems the sorrow untold, as you look down the road
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| At the clamoring crowd drawing near
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| Feel the heat of the day, as you look down the way
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| Hear the shouts of Hosanna the King
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| Oh, daughter of Zion your time’s drawing near
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| Don’t forsake Him, oh don’t pass it by
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| On the foal of a donkey as the prophets had said
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| Passing by you, He rides on to die
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| Come now little foal, though your not very old
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| Come and bear your first burden bravely
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| Walk so softly upon all the coats and the palms
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| Bare the One on your back oh so gently
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| Midst the shouting so loud and the joy of the crowd
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| There is One who is riding in silence
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| For He knows the ones here will be fleeing in fear
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| When their shepherd is taken away
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| Soon the thorn cursed ground will bring forth a crown
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| And this Jesus will seem to be beaten
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| But He’ll conquer alone both the shroud and the stone
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| And the prophesies will be completed
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| On the foal of a donkey as the prophets had said
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| Passing by you He rides on to die |