Waiting For Me

Waiting for Me What would it really have been like? Hands driven through with a sharp spike And at bottom of each languishing leg And for there lives would plead and beg. Crown of thorns torn through your head And bled and bled until almost dead From high in the sky an angel came For death who should receive the blame? Jesus was strong while others were weak Will rise us up when times are bleak Our Savior who will be and now are, And to prove it you will bear a scar. On Jesus's precious face I look and look And see His reflection in a clear brook As a reminder that He will always be With God in heaven waiting for me.