Blistered feet, bloodied alone 
Walked the streets a man unknown 
Battered face as He adorns 
mocker's robe, a crown of thorns 
tree designed for His demise 
Cursed, maligned by guilty cries 
The nails and hammer they did meet 
Two in the hands, one in the feet 
Risen up, put on display 
For a guilty mob to scream and say  [bad word]  [bad word] ” 
The people yelled to [bad word] 
“He must die! He must die!” 
Without a fight He [bad word] 

I do not know the pain you felt 
Or lowly service as You knelt 
Down before such lowly men You served (and washed their feet) 
Who is this man they sent to die? 
Many still could not reply 
Betrayed and sold by His very own (with a kiss) 
He met the needs of thousands fed 
Healed the sick and raised the dead 
“My God! My God!” The man did say 
“Have you forsaken me this day?” 
Bleeding, dying; words were few 
“Forgive them Lord for what they do” 
Gasping breath they heard Him say 
“It is finished!” 

Laid below the ground You knew it couldn't hold You 
They thought that You were bound by nature's laws 
He is risen! He is risen! 
For the veil that was torn in two and the darkness that would ensue 
symbol alas that the debt was finally paid 
When the stone it was rolled away, He was no longer where He lay 
Surely our King had risen from the dead 

On and on and on we're singing 
Singing out for all to hear us 

This is not a simple story 
Our lives are for Your glory 
Beyond my words and written pages 
Your song across the ages