Cem Ovelhas

There were a hundred sheep
Gathered in a pen
There were a hundred sheep
That the shepherd tended

But one afternoon
When he counted them all
He was missing one
He was missing one
And he cried in sorrow

He left the ninety-nine
In the pen behind
And through the mountains
He went to find her

He found her moaning
Shivering from the cold
He healed her wounds
Carried her in his arms
And back to the fold he went

This same story
Keeps repeating itself
With every lost sheep
That’s wandering around

Roaming in the world
Without peace, without comfort
Without God, without comfort
And without his forgiveness