| His blood drenched a pathway down that old dusty road
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| A lamb to the slaughter as the scripture foretold
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| Broken and beaten he was tired and worn
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| Resisting temptation to the curse that he’d been born
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| They ask why tell me why
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| The man who’d been lauded now stood despised
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| The great liberator he’s now victimized
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| Cut off from the living assigned to the grave
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| As if they’d forgotten the love that he gave
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| That love was gone all that love it was gone
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| It was gone all love was gone
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| He became the man of sorrow
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| One who was acquainted with our grief
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| The wounds on his flesh told a story
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| Though his friends shook their head in disbelief
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| Tell me why
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| Who was this dying man calling out to the sky
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| He promised a kingdom not a long sad goodbye
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| Minutes turned to hours behind that dark stone
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| Then they heard him whisper you’re not alone
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| And that is why I believe that is why
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| He became the man of sorrow
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| One who was acquainted with our grief
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| The wounds on his flesh still tell the story
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| And by his stripes, by his stripes, I’m free
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| But he became the man of sorrow
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| So sorrow wouldn’t be a part of me
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| He was bruised and crushed for my transgressions
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| By his stripes, his blood, has set me free |