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Ten Thousand Angels
They bound the hands of Jesus
In the garden where He prayed;
They led Him through the streets in shame.
They spat upon the Saviour
So pure and free from sin;
They said, “Crucify him”, He’s to blame.
      He could have called ten thousand angels
      To destroy the world and set Him free.
      He could have called ten thousand angles
      But he died alone, for you and me.
Upon His precious head
They placed a crown of thorns
They laughed and said, “Behold the King”
They struck Him and they cursed Him
And mocked his Holy name,
All alone He suffered everything.
When they nailed Him to the Cross
His mother stood nearby;
He said, “Woman behold thy son!”
He cried, “I thrist for water”,
But they gave Him none to drink.
Then the sinful work of man was done.
To the howling mob He yielded;
He did not for mercy cry.
The cross of shame He took alone.
And when He cried, “It’s finshed”,
He gave himself to die;
Salvation’s wondrous plan was done.