How can it be that one so vile

and wretched as I am,

Can tread this sacred Holy ground,

before the Great I AM.

T'is only through the blood of one

who suffered, bled and died,

Who pleads my case before God's throne,

exalted, glorified.

Aflame, the bush stands, unconsumed,

by raging fires, within,

The Great Refiner purifies,

the thorns of self and sin.

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