I know this is true.
I have been there many times before, you see.
For, it always lessens the burden
When we go back to Calvary.

The Blood is the purest.
It washes Nations of their every sin.
It will wash you and me, too,
Every time we bow our heads, again ...

Asking Gods blessings, asking Him
To restore us to His Kingdom, there;
Keeping His will in mind, as we go
Daily to Him in humble prayer.

Lord, help us cling to the old rugged cross;
Which held our Savior there,
As His blood flowed freely down the hill
To wash away our every care ...

That we might be partakers
Of His royal Kingdom in Heaven, o'er,
To worship our sweet Savior
And walk the streets of gold evermore.

So, cling to the Cross. The Master's there,
With all the love there could ever be.
There is nothing, on this old earth,
To open our heart more clearly to see ...

Than this, our Jesus, our King of Kings,
Our Bright and Morning Star;
Who will come and tug at our hearts
When we are wandering off afar.

His love is a true blessing, from above.
Let us Praise His name all the day,
Love each other, and help each other
In trials of life all the long, long way,

And support each other in all things of Christ
That we shan't suffer loss,
As we look upward, toward the Heavens ...
As we cling to the old, old Cross.