Heading not his illocution
We have earned our execution
Guilty ‘fore the Father
Ev’ry son and daughter
But the Son, in God’s solution
Bore the curse of sin’s pollution
Breaking through the pother
Found the slave and bought her
Now the veil is torn asunder
Nevermore can Satan plunder
“Righteous,” now the heading
Freed is she from fretting
Heaven’s call in holy thunder
Fills her soul with fear and wonder
Bride adorned for wedding
Perfect love, the setting


Counted righteous, yet we sin
Broken, but He lives within
Dying daily while we live
We are paupers, yet we give
Owning, but cannot afford
Wealth belonging to the Lord
Rich beyond all human dreams
In the desert finding streams
Walking from the state of death
Lungs of dust inflate with breath
Weakness shows a deeper might
Faith replaces eyes for sight
Hope endures when hope has died
Tortured souls in peace abide
Counting joy the deepest strife
Dying Son; eternal life