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Depending on the Blood

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On the golden streets of heaven all men hope to walk some day,
Yet so many are not willing to accept the living way;
But while others build on good works, or opinions if they may,
Hallelujah! hallelujah!
I'm depending on the blood.

Refrain:
In the soul-cleansing blood of the Saviour,
I've been washed in the crimson flood;
Tho' the world may say there is hope some other way,
I'm depending on the blood.

Some will tell us that God's mercy is their only hope and plea,
That a soul He could not punish throughout all eternity;
But I read that my dear Saviour died for sinners just like me,
Hallelujah! hallelujah!
I'm depending on the blood.

As we look back thro' the ages where the kings and prophets trod,
We may see their altars reeking with the sacrifice and blood;
But those types were only pointing to the Paschal Lamb of God,
Hallelujah! hallelujah!
I'm depending on the blood.

'Tis the burden of that chorus over on the streets of light,
That the blood from Calv'ry's mountain has washed all their garments white;
So I'll shout along life's pathway till I reach that land so bright:
"Hallelujah! hallelujah!
I'm depending on the blood."