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GREW STILL AS SHE MADE HER
WAY TO JESUS.
SHE STUMBLED THROUGH THE
TEARS THAT MADE HER BLIND.
SHE FELT SUCH PAIN, SOME
SPOKE IN ANGER.
HEARD FOLKS WHISPER,
'THERE'S NO PLACE HERE
FOR HER KIND.'
STILL ON SHE CAME, THROUGH
THE SHAME THAT FLUSHED HER
FACE UNTIL AT LAST, SHE
KNELT BEFORE HIS FEET.
AND THOUGH SHE SPOKE NO
WORDS, EVERYTHING SHE SAID
WAS HEARD AS SHE POURED
HER LOVE FOR THE MASTER
FROM HER BOX OF ALABASTER.
SO I'VE COME TO POUR MY
PRAISE ON HIM LIKE OIL
FROM MARY'S ALABASTER BOX.
OH BLESS HIS NAME.
SO DON'T BE ANGRY IF
I WASH HIS FEET WITH MY
TEARS AND I DRY THEM
WITH MY HAIR.
'CAUSE YOU WEREN'T THERE
THE NIGHT JESUS FOUND ME.
YOU DID NOT FEEL WHAT I
FELT WHEN HE WRAPPED HIS
LOVING ARMS AROUND ME.
AND, YOU DON'T KNOW THE
COST, NOT OF MY OIL IN MY
ALABASTER BOX.
NO ONE ELSE KNOWS WHAT
YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH.
I CAN'T FORGET THE WAY
LIFE USED TO BE 'CAUSE I
WAS A PRISONER TO THE SIN
THAT HAD ME BOUND.
AND I SPENT MY DAYS, I
POURED MY LIFE WITHOUT
MEASURE INTO A LITTLE
TREASURE BOX I THOUGHT
I FOUND.
UNTIL THE DAY WHEN JESUS
CAME TO ME AND HEALED MY
SOUL WITH THE WONDER OF
HIS TOUCH.
SO NOW I'M GIVING BACK TO
HIM ALL THE PRAISE HE'S
WORTHY OF.
I'VE BEEN FORGIVEN AND
THAT'S WHY, THAT'S WHY I
LOVE HIM SO MUCH.
SO I'VE COME TO POUR MY
PRAISE ON HIM LIKE OIL
FROM MARY'S ALABASTER BOX.
MARY'S ALABASTER BOX,
OH LORD.
SO DON'T BE ANGRY IF I
WASH HIS FEET WITH MY
TEARS AND DRY THEM
WITH MY HAIR.
'CAUSE YOU WEREN'T THERE
THE NIGHT JESUS FOUND ME.
YOU DIDN'T FEEL WHAT I
FELT WHEN HE WRAPPED HIS
LOVING ARMS AROUND ME.
AND YOU DON'T KNOW, YOU
DON'T KNOW, YOU DON'T
KNOW, YOU DON'T KNOW, YOU
DON'T KNOW, YOU DON'T
KNOW, YOU DON'T KNOW THE
COST, NOT OF THIS OIL IN
MY ALABASTER BOX.