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Rivers of BloodRivers of blood were shed that day,
For there was a considerable price to pay.
Washing away sin extracts a crimson cost
When saving a soul wandering and lost.
Rivers of blood He shed for you,
For your sins were more than a few.
He was struck, whipped, tortured and maimed;
Mocked and spat on, publicly shamed.
Almost as horrible, he KNEW how he must die;
The suffering he endured, the words he would cry.
Who among us would wish the details of our death,
The pain which awaited, our shuddering final breath?
He knew too how the children he struggled to save
Would reject and betray him, lead him to his grave.
Yet even so he loved us, and agreed to shed his blood;
The price of our redemption, a crimson gushing flood.