On The Road To Jericho - Keith Green

I left Jerusalem last week for Jericho

In the afternoon, the sun was getting low

And then the bushes shook, and out they came at me

They were robbing me, half-naked, while they beat me head to toe

And they left me on the road to Jericho

Lying almost slain, and wounded by the road

Crying out in pain for a sympathetic soul

First a priest, and then another of my kind

Well, they were men I could have trusted, but they acted deaf and blind

They were strangers on the road to Jericho

Oh, Jericho

Jericho

Oh, Jericho

Oh, Jericho

Through the blood and tears, I saw a worried face

He was from Samaria, my people hate his race

He bandaged up my wounds and he laid me on his horse

Although my memory is cloudy, I can still feel his friendly flow

Such a kind man on the road to Jericho

Jericho

When I later asked the innkeeper the man’s name he did not know

Just a neighbor on the road to Jericho

Jericho

Jericho

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Jericho

No, oh, oh, oh

Jericho