With a love thicker than blood,
He chose Himself to be,
The One who died for all,
For you and for me.
With thorns as sharp as knifes,
They hung a crown upon His head,
And crimson dripped down like rain,
He cried up to Heaven as He bled.
With nails as hard as rock,
They pierced His flesh like dough,
And all who loved Him wrote a Book,
So everyone could know.
That He died for you and for me,
And he bled in silent wails,
So that you and I could live and know,
That God; \"He chose the Nails.\"
