It's the birthplace of God given to thee
The scriptures we've read said the town of Da-vid
Hosts the prize of December so holy
An angel of the Lord, far from heaven he soared
Was the Angel named Harold, strayed greatly
To worship the new King he went down to view
But he failed to descend there directly
The sheep were the pride of some shepherds that night
On their backs on some hill, the wind on them
'Twas a big frightning show, by a heavenly host
As they flew on that first Christmas season
They'd made a wrong turn, as they all quickly learned
To the left, they could find town Bethlehem
Was on Christmas night that the Angels sang
Could it be? Yes of Him, they were singin'?
That's when, so inspired, came an Angel-ese sound
And Harry said "Aw Heck, guess we're wailing"
No shepherd there knew what the Angels would do
Thought they said "Oh Hark! Glory unto Him"
Harold said "just great" well these dudes cannot translate
So the tales of December are clashin'
So after they sang only shepherds remain
To that place they would hurry to see Him
When Christmastime came, shepherds mistook his name
Harry sure did not want to mislead all
"From Heaven we send our good tidings to men," he said
"Harold's my name not our title"
So Harry told them Christ could erase all of their sin
And that's how we got that Christmas Carol
Well "Hark" isn't right, what the song oughta cite
Is "'Aw Heck!' Said the Angel named Harold"
Cattle gently lows where the Son of God grows
Angels gave unto him praise and honor
The shepherds all say, that upon Christmas day
Angels herald the glory they'd find there
The shepherds get up once they had realized
Jesus slept in a trough made for water
With so much to gain, left their sheep on the plains
Went to visit Joachim's daughter
Not much for clothes, wrapped just in swaddling
In this room, just a cow palace mansion
New eastern star gleams while the little child dreams
And the baby just lays, shepherds watchin'
Mary and Joe, take in all of this show
In the town of Bethlehem one winter
And the songs we all know well their lyrics we do owe
To the shepherds who couldn't remember
There is no room at all in the Inn where they stayed
Bed's a manger, the Savior's room a stall
To capture the time, they made up so many rhymes
And they mentioned the Angel named Harold
The songs and carols from this small Bethlehem town
On the birthday of God given to thee
The shepherds were led to the little child's bed
Wrote some songs to remember it's holy
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