Under Pharaoh’s Hand
Long after Joseph’s light had gone, A new king rose with heart of stone. He saw our numbers, feared our name, So he made slaves and gave us shame. Under Pithom’s sun we bent and toiled, Bricks and dust, our labor boiled.
We will sing, we will stand, Holding hope with a trembling hand. When fear runs wild and rulers harm, Faith will guard us, faith will warm.
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