And I made the crown of thorns and I stripped Him bare.
Then I beat Him,
And plucked His beard and hair.
O my Lord, yes I was there,
O my God, yes it was me,
And the nails that pierced His hands and feet were forged by me.
And I drove them,
To hang Him on that tree.
O my God, yes it was me.
O my Lord, how can it be
That the one that I have hurt so still prays for me?
When He asks you
To forgive me.
O my Lord, how can it be?
O my God, what have I done?
Could there be a place of mercy for such a one,
Who has slain
Your only precious Son?
O my God, what have I done?
O my Lord, right there He stands.
And I can still see the nailprints in His feet and hands.
But He's alive!
O now I understand.
O my Lord, and O my God,
O my Lord and my God!
copyright 1997 John Coburn