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• Artiste: John Mark McMillan
• Titre: Death In His Grave
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Though the Earth Cried out for blood Satisfied her hunger was Her billows calmed on raging seas for the souls on men she craved Sun and moon from balcony Turned their head in disbelief Their precious Love would taste the sting disfigured and disdained On Friday a thief On Sunday a King Laid down in grief But awoke with keys Of Hell on that day The first born of the slain The Man Jesus Christ Laid death in his grave So three days in darkness slept The Morning Sun of righteousness But rose to shame the throes of death And over turn his rule Now daughters and the sons of men Would pay not their dues again The debt of blood they owed was rent When the day rolled a new On Friday a thief On Sunday a King Laid down in grief But awoke holding keys To Hell on that day The first born of the slain The Man Jesus Christ Laid death in his grave On Friday a thief On Sunday a King Laid down in grief But awoke with keys Of Hell on that day The first born of the slain The Man Jesus Christ Laid death in his grave He has cheated Hell and seated Us above the fall In desperate places He paid our wages One time once and for all