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O Sacred Head Now Wounded

from A Night of Victorian Spiritualism by Valentine Wolfe

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lyrics

O sacred head now wounded
With grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded
With thorns thine only crown,
How art thou pale with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn.
How does that visage languish,
Which once was bright as morn.

What language shall I borrow
To thank thee dearest friend?
For this, thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end.
O make me thine forever,
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, ever
Outlive my love to thee.

Be near when I am dying,
Oh, show thy cross to me,
And for my rescue, flying,
Come, Lord, and set me free!
These eyes, new faith receiving,
From Jesus shall not move,
For one who dies believing
Dies safely, through thy love.

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from A Night of Victorian Spiritualism, released March 16, 2022

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Valentine Wolfe Greenville, South Carolina

Two morbidly fascinated musicians combining ambient solo bass, brutal distortion, electronica, and 18th century opera to tell a story of the macabre.

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