In dark, filthy places
Forsaken, forgotten
Our brothers and sisters
Are paying a price
They will not deny Him
To purchase their freedom
For these are the faithful
The martyrs for Christ

Twisted and broken
Abandoned and beaten
Their bodies confined
An unseen sacrifice
But deep in their spirits
They know perfect freedom
For they are the ones
Who've been set free by Christ

From under the altar
The voices are crying
"How long, Lord
Till You come judge the earth?"
But He'll wrap and redeem them
In robes of pure white
For the blood of the martyrs
Is the seed of the church
Oh, the blood of the martyrs
Is the seed of the church
The deafening silence
Their faithful refusal
To doubt or deny
In the presence of men
They live by His promise
Before His own Father
That in His Kingdom
He'll not deny them

From under the altar
The voices are crying
"How long, Lord
Till You come judge the earth?"
But He'll wrap and redeem them
In robes of pure white
For the blood of the martyrs
Is the seed of the church
Oh, the blood of the martyrs
Is the seed of the church

"How long Lord?
How long till You come again
To take us home?"

From under the altar
The voices are crying
"How long, Lord
Till You come judge the earth?"
But He'll wrap and redeem them
In robes of pure white
For the blood of the martyrs
Is the seed of the church
Oh, the blood of the martyrs
Is the seed of the church