Taken in the night from a prayer with his father
He didn't even fight, no didn't even bother
Betrayed and denied by the ones He loved
But He knew this was the reason He was sent from above
He was the King, The Christ, the Spotless Lamb
But in our eyes He was nothing but a sham
His love, the drive -- His life, the price
To become the sinner's sacrifice Beaten and whipped, garments stained
blood red
Had a crown of thorns pressed upon his head
And the people all laughed as they mocked his name
But all that could be heard were his screams of pain
Brought before Pilate to recieve his sentence
And to think this was all for my repentance
Pilate pointed to the people,
