The Whipping

On they mocked Him
And they beat Him
They pressed a crown of thorns
Upon His head

And He was bleeding
As He was pleading
For the lives of those
Who spit on Him - they screamed

Crucify Him, crucity Him
Now who are You, You filthy Jew
To say You'll save us
And take us
Forgive us of our sins
Pain so thick and dull
Marching to the skull