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Broken Cross
Broken Cross
I broke the cross of Jesus the
one he beard for me.
Beneath strain of fret and sin
no longer could it be.
Although the cross weighed heavy
He ask no help that day.
Stumbling; drugging, pulling hard
He made it all the way.
His hands were nailed, his feet were
bound. His side was pierced in pain.
But still he prayed and ask God,
Father for give them, he cried out
loud, for they know what they do.
And when he died, the world soon
knew. He was Lord for you and me.
And now the cross is broken, from
weight of lasting sin.
And no one stands with open heart,
to let the savior in.
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Music:
No Wonder They Call Him The Savior
By
Michael Combs