But how, oh few believe it, who will listen?  To whom will God reveal His saving power?  It was the will of the Lord that His servant  Should grow like a plant, taking root in dry ground    He had no beauty or majesty to make us notice Him  He wasn't attractive and nothing would draw us to Him  We ignored Him that He was nothing    He is the suffering servant, he is the son of God    It was our grief He bore  Our sorrows, that weighed Him down  And we thought His troubles  Were a punishment from God  But He was wounded and beaten for our sins  He was chastised that we might have peace  He was lashed, and we were healed    We are the ones  Who strayed away like sheep without shephard  We who left God's path to follow our own  God laid on Him guilt and sins of everyone of us    He was oppressed, and He was afflicted  He was brought as a lamb to the slaughter  But He opened not His mouth  He's the servant who is love  He's the servant who set us free  He is the suffering servant, the Son of God