The Wooden Cross
Moses began with blood on wood, the lamb to slaughter went,
Not until the birth of Christ, the significant intent.
Upon the cross with hands held high, the nails biting through his wrists,
Yet never once upon the cross my Saviour did resist.
Unto the maiden at the foot, his body laid and bare,
His mother Mary held him close and offered up her prayer.
And so today I ask you all, what price would you pay,
For such a man to take the cross in such a loving way?
The sins of the world he took within, and so harsh his heart did break,
And I know that mankind is not so false, that this life taken, was a mistake.
So look upon your wrists and feet, upon your side and back,
No scars will ever upon you show, for he took them with every lash.
Whipped and torn his flesh did tear, his blood flowing upon the ground,
And through this torment that he bore, he never made a sound.
What right has man to use his name in cursing and in vain,
The Lamb who took our sins away, Blessed be his name!
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