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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

From the pages of the prophets, he stepped out the world
And walked the earth in lowly
For he had creator, a creature now was he
to bare love's sacred mystery

He the truth was called a liar, the lover hated so
He was times a martyr before he died
Forsaken by the father, despised by all the
He alone was born to be the

Upon the cross of glory, his was life to me
A of love's most sacred mystery
And death rejoice to hold him for soon he would be
For love always have the victory

Though no rhyme could tell it and no words could ever say
And no cord is foul to sing the pain
Still we feel the burden and with your song
You us so and yet you bid us sing

Upon the of glory, his death was life to me
A sacrifice of love's sacred mystery
And rejoice to hold him for soon he would be free
For love must always the victory

Upon the cross of glory, his was life to me
A sacrifice of love's most mystery
And death rejoice to him for soon he would be free
For love always have the victory
Love must always the victory