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I Wear the crown of thorns upon my
head
I arranged the crucifixion for myself
I can feel the blood running down my exhausted face
I maintain the dignity within trying to be full of grace
Everyday is like that Good Friday when the saviour walked to his death
If only I had Mary Magdalene by my side in this hour of need
Wiping away the tears from my eyes and the sweat from my palms
As she would along the way with Mary his Mother read out the holy psalms
Upon the hill he stood betrayed by his twelve men
Arms outstretched for the sins of the world to be washed away
In your beautiful arms I wish I still did lay
On the risen day he looked to save us again
Judas Iscariot and the doubting Thomas would never be disciples
hereafter and then there were ten
I long to be swimming in the waters of the Israelite
from the early dawn to the dead of a Middle Eastern Night
Floating am I along the shores of the Galilee
with all my conquerors' swimming around me in symmetry |
