“Hate Stephen!” said his foes, in the synagogue of Jews who chose.
Came and argued, but they sinned, it’s in vain; whatever they said, he gets it all explained.
Stephen’s off to face his crime, face a pair and they may be lyin’.
“Is this true?” they ask him now. Stephen will answer and they’re havin’ a cow.
Wish him well as the tale he’ll tell, took them way back for a spell.
Will they say it’s God in him?
Stephen, tell it good and make them frown and win a crown again.
First he fingered the Israelites, crying “Why four hundred years to cry?”
Moses matters, wrote his answer, prophet comes and bids “obey or die.”
Free from Pharaoh, now aware of how the Lord has freed you; make the house He’s earned.
God gave reasons why it’s pleasin’, but He say He got no call for halls made of stone.
Did he speak truth, not a lie? Answer’s irrelevant; they made a cry.
They are not repenting, they had had their fill; one holds garments while the other men kill.
(The) late Stephen won’t remain, life is lost but Heaven’s gained.
See him knocked by the suffering stones, hearing a song, it’s Jesus calling him home.
Sin, it comes a-callin’, your life you’ll be owin’, seeing who’s furious (at) sins? God alone.
What’s the answer? Christ the Lamb. But what will be your answer to the Son of Man?
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