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