The Faithful
Card & Naish
In dark, filthy places, forsaken, forgotten-
Our brothers and sisters are paying a price.
They will not deny Him to purchase their freedom
For these are the faithful, the martyrs for Christ.
Twisted and broken, abandoned and beaten-
Their bodies confined an unseen sacrifice
But deep in their spirits, they know perfect freedom
For they are the ones who've been set free by Christ.
From under the altar the voices are crying,
"How long Lord, till you come judge the earth?"
But He'll wrap and redeem them in robes of pure white
For the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.
For the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.
The deafening silence--their faithful refusal
To doubt or deny in the presence of men.
They live by His promise before His own Father
That in His Kingdom, He'll not deny them.
From under the altar the voices are crying,
"How long Lord, till you come judge the earth?"
But He'll wrap and redeem them in robes of pure white
For the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.
For the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.
"How long Lord?
How long till You come again to take us home?"
From under the altar the voices are crying,
"How long Lord, till you come judge the earth?"
But He'll wrap and redeem them in robes of pure white
For the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.
For the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.
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