| There is a fountain filled with blood
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| Drawn from Immanuel’s veins
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| And sinners plunged beneath that flood
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| Lose all their guilty stains
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| Lose all their guilty stains
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| Lose all their guilty stains
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| And sinners plunged beneath that flood
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| Lose all their guilty stains
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| The dying thief rejoiced to see
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| That fountain in his day
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| And there may I, though vile as he
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| Wash all my sins away
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| Wash all my sins away
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| Wash all my sins away
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| And there may I, though vile as he
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| Wash all my sins away
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| Dear dying Lamb
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| Thy precious blood
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| Shall never lose its power
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| Till all the ransomed ones of God
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| Be saved, to sin no more
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| Be saved, to sin no more
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| Be saved, to sin no more
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| Till all the ransomed ones of God
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| Be saved to sin no more
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| Ever since by faith I saw the stream
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| Thy flowing wounds supply
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| Redeeming love has been my theme
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| And shall be till I die
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| And shall be till I die
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| And shall be till I die
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| Redeeming love has been my theme
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| And shall be till I die
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| When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
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| Lies silent in the grave
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| Then in a nobler, sweeter song |
| I’ll sing Thy power to save
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| I’ll sing Thy power to save
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| I’ll sing Thy power to save
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| Then in a nobler, sweeter song
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| I’ll sing Thy power to save |