The eyes that pierce a sinners soul, that break him down, then make him whole.
The hands that lift him to his feet and in arms of love do greet.
Whose eyes, whose hands bring this relief?
The eyes that see eternities, who have a plan and place for me.
The hands that stead'ly guide me there, who help me to all trials bear.
Whose eyes, whose hands this comfort give?
The eyes that wept with tears of pain, which look with love no thought of gain.
The hands they pierced with cruel stake, the ones that my redemption make.
Whose eyes, whose hands so pained for me?
The eyes that closed for me in death, that looked to God in final breath.
The hands once pale in deaths firm hold, hands worth so much more than gold.
Whose eyes, whose hands for me would die?
The eyes that opened in the tomb, with life, dispelling death and gloom.
The hands that overcame the grave and ever work, all men to save.
His eyes, His hands, so full of love.
