| Death rides blackened clouds across the sky
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| The Son of man lays down to die
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| With every pounding blow upon the nail
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| Thunder rumbles all through hell
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| And from death’s barren womb the captives cry
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| Who is there to free us should He die
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| His grave becomes a door, He enters in
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| To face the author of all sin
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| Defying death and the grave He takes their keys
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| And with them every captive frees
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| And from death’s barren womb the captives cry
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| Arise for our redemption draweth nigh
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| For He holds the keys
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| He holds the keys
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| And though we’ve been held captive
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| At long last we are free
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| For He holds the keys
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| Against the gates of hell I now resist
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| For the shackles that had torn my wrists
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| Lay before me now upon the ground
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| To sin I am no longer bound
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| For from death’s barren womb
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| He heard my cry
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| And loosed the chains that bound me to a lie
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| And to all the things that have kept you away
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| That keep you defeated day after day after day
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| The heartache that nobody sees
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| That eats at your soul like a cruel disease
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| He who set the captives free
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| It is He, it is He who holds your keys |