How deep the Father's love for us How vast beyond all measure That He should give His only Son To make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss The Father turns His face away As wounds which mar the Chosen One Bring many sons to glory
Behold the man upon a cross My sin upon His shoulders Ashamed I hear my mocking voice Call out among the scoffers
It was my sin taht held Him there Until it was accomplished His dying breath has brought me life I know that it is finished
I will nost boast in anything No gifts, no power, no wisdom But I will boast in Jesus Christ His death and resurrection
Why should I gain from His reward I cannot give an answer But this I know with all my heart His wounds have paid my ransomTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.