Whenever I stand before my maker And the book is open wide And the deeds of men both good and bad Are recorded there inside There won't be a sinful way beside my name Or a time I let Him down For the crimson blood of Jesus Kept my wrongs from being found
Oh the pages have been stained By the blood He shed for me Praise God, I can't read them Neither can He What's been forgiven is forgotten And impossible to see Bloodstained pages, stained by blood Shed for me
Whenever I stand in wait of judgment To account for all my sin And a diary of the life I've led Is the evidence brought in There will be no need of that log of deed No conviction handed down For the crimson blood of Jesus Kept my wrongs from being found
Oh the pages have been stained By the blood He shed for me Praise God, I can't read them Neither can He What's been forgiven is forgotten And impossible to see Bloodstained pages, stained by blood Shed for me
Oh the pages have been stained By the blood He shed for me Praise God, I can't read them Neither can He What's been forgiven is forgotten And impossible to see Bloodstained pages, stained by blood That He shed for me Oh, stained by blood That He shed for me
