John Mark McMillan - Baby son

We thought you’d^A come with a ^Ecrown of^A gold A string of p^D2earls and a c^Eashmere r^Aobe We thoug^F#m7ht you’d clinch and^E iron^D fist And rain like ^Esusfire on^D the politic^As

But without a sw^Dord, no armored g^Auard But common b^Eorn in mother’s^A arms The govern^Dment now rests ^F#m7upon The shoulder’^Es o^Df this baby^A son (Intro)

Have you no ro^Aom ins^Eide your he^Aart The inn is f^D2ull, the o^Eut is ^Adark Upon pr^F#m7ofane shines sa^Ecred s^Dun Not a^Esusshamed ^Dto be one of u^As

Glor^Dia, Halle^Alu Christ, the Lo^Erd We’ve longed for^A You Glor^Dia, Hall^F#m7elu Christ, the L^Eord ^DWe’ve longed for^A You (Repeat)