They Tend To Die Lyrics - Paramaecium

Our Lord's enemies, they found Him in Gethsemane 

They took God's only Son from the olive grove 

And I decry, that which is breathing tends to die 

Oh my Lord, his last hours of sorrow 

I implore my hope for tomorrow 

Our Lord's enemies, they mocked Him as they bowed their knees 

They put God's only Son in a crown of thorns 

And I decry, that which is breathing tends to die 

Oh my Lord, I hope I can find you 

I deplore the way that they bind you