The Reason We Praise

He asked, in Gethsemane, if there's another way If sin can be recompensed without His blood to pay But silence answered as He prayed The world held its tongue, as if to say "There is no other way." The narrow road that stretched ahead Was paved by the ugly sting of death That drew His blood at every tread And thorns of sin, and guilt, and dread He took it all upon His head We all have blemishes we try to hide Cruel vices that cannot be justified A hurtful thought, or word, or deed Virtues stained by pride and greed These, all of us must guilty plead But Justice calls to lay by His side Redeemed by the blood of the crucified He bore our shame to give us grace And crown us victors of the race Now I can’t help but stand amazed He’s filled my heart, full of His praise