Pentatonix - Away In A Manger Lyrics
Lyrics
Chorus: Scott
La da da da da da, la da da da da da
La da da da da da, la da da da
Verse 1: Scott
Away in a manger, no crib for His bed
The little Lord Jesus lay down His sweet head
The stars in the sky look down where He lay
The little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay
Chorus: Scott & Kirstin
La da da da da da, la da da da da da
La da da da da da, la da da da
Verse 2: Kirstin
The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes
But little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes
I love Thee, Lord Jesus, look down from the sky
And stay by my side 'til morning is nigh
Chorus: Scott, Kirstin & Mitch
La da da da da da, la da da da da da
La da da da da da, la da da da
Verse 3: Mitch
Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay
Close by me forever and love me, I pray
Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care
And take us to Heaven to live with Thee there
Chorus: Scott, Kirstin & Mitch
La da da da da da, la da da da da da
La da da da da da, la da da da
Verse 1: Kevin
Away in a manger, no crib for His bed
The little Lord Jesus lay down His sweet head
The stars in the sky look down where He lay
The little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay
Chorus: Scott, All
La da da da da da, la da da da da da
La da da da da da, la da da da
La da da da da da, la da da da da da
La da da da da da, la da da da
Video
Pentatonix - Away In A Manger (Official Video)
Meaning & Inspiration
Pentatonix approaches "Away in a Manger" with the clinical precision of a group that understands how to turn human anatomy into a studio instrument. By removing the insulation of traditional church organs or orchestral swells, they force the listener to sit in the raw, exposed space of vocal arrangement. It’s an odd choice for a hymn that is fundamentally about the lack of comfort.
The hymn itself is a lullaby, but in the hands of Pentatonix, it becomes a performance of proximity. When Mitch croons, "Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay," there’s a tension between the intimacy of the prayer and the calculated tightness of the vocal harmonies. Does the "vibe"—this expertly constructed vocal architecture—obscure the grit of the original scene? Or does it merely dress it up for a demographic that demands its theology be as streamlined as its pop production?
Consider the line, "The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes." In the original context of the hymn, this is a nod to the lowly, earthy reality of the Incarnation. It’s a messy, smelly, animal-filled barn. But here, the "lowing" is replaced by the precision of a beatboxer and the metronomic accuracy of five voices locked in place. It feels very clean. It feels safe. It makes me wonder if we’ve lost the ability to sit with the discomfort of the manger because we’ve become so accustomed to the way the church packages it for consumption.
Scripture tells us in Isaiah 53 that He had "no beauty or majesty to attract us to him." The manger wasn't a aesthetic choice; it was an abandonment of status. Pentatonix leans into the "sweetness" of the baby, focusing on the sentimental pull of the melody. They’re tapping into a very specific CCM tradition: taking the jagged edges of a theological mystery and sanding them down until they fit perfectly into a holiday playlist.
Yet, there is a ghost of a different intention here. When Kevin takes his turn with the lyrics, the rhythmic, percussive quality of his delivery shifts the focus back toward the narrative. For a moment, the "La da da" filler fades into the background, and the reality of "no crib for His bed" hits with a bit more weight. It’s a reminder that even when we wrap the divine in our own cultural preferences—in this case, the sleek, modern pop vocal group aesthetic—the core of the request remains.
We are asking for the same thing the writer of the hymn asked for: presence. "Stay by my side 'til morning is nigh." Whether that’s sung with a choir in a drafty sanctuary or with studio-perfected pitch in a high-gloss production, the plea for the Almighty to linger in the room is the thing that cuts through the polish. It’s an incomplete bridge between our need for aesthetic comfort and the reality of a God who chooses the hay.