What love could remember no wrongs we have done?

Omniscient all-knowing He counts not their sum

Thrown into a sea without bottom or shore

Our sins they are many, His mercy is more

What patience would wait as we constantly roam?

What Father so tender is calling us home?

He welcomes the weakest, the vilest, the poor

Our sins they are many, His mercy is more

What riches of kindness He lavished on us?

His blood was the payment, His life was the cost

We stood ’neath a debt we could never afford

Our sins they are many, His mercy is more

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