My brothers pray for their victims,
singing a harpists' new song,
a new hymn before the throne,
before mankind, before God,
before the four living creatures,
and before the elders.
They sing a hymn not learned
by all, except by those
following the Lamb. They
are the ransomed, forgiven,
absolved, and have the Father's
name written on their foreheads.
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Hands Up Don't Shoot
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