On The Road To Jericho
I left jerusalem, last week for jericho,
In the afternoon, the sun was getting low,
And then the bushes shook, & out they came at me,
They were robbing half naked, while they beat me head to toe,
And they left me on the road to jericho.
Lying almost slain, & wounded by the road,
Crying out in pain for a sympathetic soul,
First a priest, & another of my kind,
Well they were men i could have trusted, but they left me deaf & blind,
They were strangers on the road to jericho.
Through the blood & tears, i saw a worried face,
He was from samaria, my people hate his race,
He bandaged up my wounds & laid me on his horse,
Although my memory is cloudy, i still can feel his friendly flow,
Such a kind man on the road to jericho.
When i later asked the innkeeper the man's name he did not know,
Just a neighbor on the road to jericho.
