Songtexte O Sacred Head - Amy Grant
O
sacred
head
now
wounded
With
grief
and
shame
way
down,
Now
scornfully
surrounded
With
thorns
thine
only
crown,
How
art
thou
pale
with
anguish,
With
sore
abuse
and
scorn.
How
does
that
visage
languish,
Which
once
was
bright
as
morn.
What
language
shall
I
borrow
To
thank
thee
dearest
man?
For
this,
thy
dying
sorrow,
Thy
pity
without
end.
O
make
me
thine
forever,
And
should
I
fainting
be,
Lord,
let
me
never,
ever
Outlive
my
love
to
thee.
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