God’s rest ye Mary Magdalene
And shelter from the Mob
The judgments made by violent man
Are not the thoughts of God
Who came and told us “Do not judge”
So we hung Him on a cross
For His tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
Oh tidings of comfort and joy.
God’s rest ye Drunken Sailor
And stillness to the waves
Silence to the lies you’ve heard:
“You’re too strung out to save”
I met a Man at Matthews’s house
With healing in His veins
Flowing Tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
God’s rest ye Zealous Pharisee
And love to all your fear
The gift of Christ is truly free
And has been all these years
There is a balm in Gilead
To give us ears to hear
Hear His tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
Oh tidings of comfort and joy.