They crucified my Lord
Nailed Him to a tree
Holy Blood flowed that day
From a place called Calvary.
His back was ripped and torn and scarred
From the scourging He'd been through,
His head was bloody from a crown of thorns
So humilitating, so cruel.
His hands, His side, His feet
Were pieced by nails and spear;
They plucked His beard, His face they struck
And mocked Him openly.
His Body was bruised and battered,
Yet there was not one broken bone,
In tormenting agony and sorrow
My Jesus died alone.
They laid Him in a borrowed tomb,
All wrapped in linen white
Rolled the stone across the way
And sealed the entrance tight.
Death could not hold my saviour down-
Victorious, He arose!
Triumphant over sin and death,
Mighty Conqueror o'er His foes!
Joy Becker © 1997
Jesus said unto her,
I am the resurrection, and the life:
he that believeth in me, though he were dead,
yet shall he live:
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