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Ten Thousand Angels |
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They bound the hands of Jesus |
In the garden where He prayed; |
They led Him through the streets in shame. |
They spat upon the Saviour |
So pure and free from sin; |
They said, “Crucify him”, He’s to blame. |
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He could have called ten thousand angels |
To destroy the world and set Him free. |
He could have called ten thousand angles |
But he died alone, for you and me. |
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Upon His precious head |
They placed a crown of thorns |
They laughed and said, “Behold the King” |
They struck Him and they cursed Him |
And mocked his Holy name, |
All alone He suffered everything. |
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When they nailed Him to the Cross |
His mother stood nearby; |
He said, “Woman behold thy son!” |
He cried, “I thrist for water”, |
But they gave Him none to drink. |
Then the sinful work of man was done. |
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To the howling mob He yielded; |
He did not for mercy cry. |
The cross of shame He took alone. |
And when He cried, “It’s finshed”, |
He gave himself to die; |
Salvation’s wondrous plan was done. |
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