Death in His Grave

Though the earth cried out for blood,
Satsified her hunger was.
Her billows calmed on raging seas,
For the souls of men she craved.
Sun and moon on balcony
Turn their heads in disbelief.
Their precious blood would taste the sting
Disfigured and distained.
On Friday a thief,
On Sunday a king.
Laid down in grief,
But awoke with the keys.
To hell on that day,
First-born of the slain,
The man Jesus Christ laid death in his grave.
So three days in darkness slept,
The morning sun of righteousness.
But rose to shame the throws of death
And overturn his rule.
Now daughters and the sons of men
Will not pay their dues again.
The debt of blood they owed was rent
When the day rolled anew.
On Friday a thief,
On Sunday a king.
Laid down in grief,
But awoke with the keys.
To hell on that day,
First-born of the slain,
The man Jesus Christ laid death in his grave.
And he has cheated
Hell and seated
Us above the fall.
In desperate places,
He paid our wages,
One time, once and for all.
On Friday a thief,
On Sunday a king.
Laid down in grief,
But awoke holding keys.
To hell on that day,
First-born of the slain,
Oh, the man Jesus Christ laid death in his grave.
Oo, oh