<TITLE>19. Par 77-77</TITLE>L-77 When we sing, if the brother will give us a little chord. All of us with our heads bowed, praying for the sinner, while we're waiting. There is a fountain filled with Blood, drawn from Immanuel's veins, where sinner's plunged beneath the flood, lose all their guilty stains.
 There is a fountain filled with blood
 Drawn from Immanuel's...
Will you walk forward here, stand here at the altar, just a moment. Let us pray.
 And sinners,
Make me, Lord, a Christian like that mother deer was. She was a real... God bless you. Won't you come now with this man here? One man in this audience, coming out, deep conviction.
 Oh, lose all their guilty stains,
 And sinners, plunged... (Might be your last opportunity, won't you come?) flood,
 Lose all their guilty stains,
 The dying thief rejoiced to see
 That fountain in his day;
 And there may I, though vile as he,
 Wash all my sins away,
 Washed all my sins away,
 Wash all my sins away,
 And there may I, though vile as he,
 Wash all my sins away. [Brother Branham hums--Ed.]

