|
The strong man he will kneel down |
|
Whalst angels strip him of cloak and crown |
|
Through bitter lips come vile breath |
|
He is the last one to confess |
|
There will be no pity for him |
|
We must kill him where he stands |
|
No there will be no mercy for him |
|
Nor for any of his klan |
|
Let there be no hesitation |
|
Get a rope an make it quick |
|
Each last breath come from his mouth |
|
I will beat it out with a stick |
|
Pray boy you've no reservations |
|
The word will be carried out |
|
He is the one who brought down the son |
|
Let there be no doubt |
|
There is power wonder workin' power |
|
In the blood of the lamb |
|
There is power wonder workin' power |
|
In the precious blood of the lamb |
|
He's seated on the right hand |
