Song of the Martyrs

In a place far from here, where worship is costly
Sits a mother, father, and their three little ones

As they kneel with hands raised up, lifting up their prayers,
The soldiers with guns come in and take them away.

Off to a tiny room, the daddy is taken,
strengthened by the Lord as he tells them of a Savior who saves

Hours and hours go by, now badly beaten, this man of God sings out
As he draws his last breath

Blessed are those, the blood of the martyrs, our brothers and sisters in the faith
Can you hear, the song of the martyrs, sweet and beautiful are they

Next the mother’s called in, her children follow
as they see her body and blood on the floor

As they share the gospel with them, they’re beaten and cursed at
Praying for the Lord’s strength as they share the good news

With tears flowing down from their eyes, and love for their captors
Repent and trust in Jesus is what they say

The soldiers mock each one, refusing to listen, and then they all sing out
As they draw their last breath


Holy, holy to the Lamb
who was slain for our sins
Worthy, worthy is our Lord
the name that’s above all names

Holy, holy is our Lord
to You we give all our praise
Worthy, worthy is our Lord
For us to die is gain as we lift up Jesus name
Hear us singing

Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore Thee,
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee,
Who was, and is, and evermore shall be.

Holy is the Lord!


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