Stranger

 

He was a stranger in our town.

Nothing new just passing through.

He had ragged clothes He soiled feet.

He had long dirty hair but eyes so deep.

The people laughed and scoffed at Him and turned and walked away.

This man was a dirty stranger; no one listened to what He said.

They called that love.

 

His hands were dark and blistered.  As if they knew no rest.

But ours were white and shining, as if they knew no test.

To talk of love is easy and to speak of love is cheap.

To bear the weight of a stranger who just came in off the street.

Now that's real love, that's real love.

To throw away your pride and get your hands dirty not white.

Now that's real love, that's real love.

To throw away your pride and get your hands dirty not white.

Now that's real love.

 

So He left this town in silence. Nothing new just passing through.

He had ragged clothes He had soiled feet.

He had long dirty hair and eyes so deep.

He shook the dust from His sandals with a tear and walked away.

He took my sins and set me free, said to follow and not to stay.

And I found love, that's real love.

I through away my pride and got my hands dirty not white.

And I found love.  I found love.

Won't you through away your pride,

and get your hands dirty not white.

And you'll find love.