Untitled Hymn

There’s not a good that I’ve ever done
That could count me clean before Father or Son
Only by grace, how sweet the sound
And the terrible tree where His blood fell down
Oh righteous ransom
Oh blessed?
My worthless soul, the Savior has bought
Though once a stranger
He made me his own
And counted me clean
And an heir to the throne
Oh, and I am not able
To pull myself up
Nor am I worthy
To drink of Your cup
But you paid my fare
Where I could not go
The Father on high
Pulld me up from so low
If I had the voice of 10,000 mn
And 10,000 years with paper and pen
I could not capture
In poem or song
A grace that is greater
Than all of the wrong
A grace that is greater
Than all of the wrong