Whenever I stand before my maker
And the book is open wide
And the deeds of men both good and bad
Are recorded there inside
There won't be a sinful way beside my name
Or a time I let Him down
For the crimson blood of Jesus
Kept my wrongs from being found
Oh the pages have been stained
By the blood He shed for me
Praise God, I can't read them
Neither can He
What's been forgiven is forgotten
An impossible to see
Bloodstained pages stained by blood
He shed for me
Whenever I stand in wait of judgement
To account for all my sin
And a diary of the life I've led
Is the evidence brought in
There will be no need of that log of deeds
No conviction handed down
For the crimson blood of Jesus
Kept my wrong from being found
Oh the pages have been stained
By the blood He shed for me
Praise God, I can't read them
Neither can He
What's been forgiven is forgotten
An impossible to see
Bloodstained pages stained by blood
He shed for me
