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John Mark McMillan

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John Mark McMillan

Murdered Son

You set us up above all the stars
You set us on a high place by where You are
While we were dead You made us Your friends
And scattered our debt upon the wind

Glory to one, God's murdered son
Who paid for my resurrection

Once from the dust, once from the grave
Daughters and sons, from the ashes You've raised
And hidden our faults even from Your own face
And scattered our debt upon the waves

Glory to one, God's murdered son
Who paid for my resurrection
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Glory to one, God's murdered son
Who paid for my resurrection

Glory to the one who, who overcame in death
Glory to the one who paid for my offenses
Glory to the one

Once from the dust, once from the grave
Daughters and sons, from the ashes You've raised
And hidden our faults even from Your own face
And scattered our debt upon the waves
And scattered our debt upon the waves