My broken King was innocent, hung naked there for all to see
“If you’re the Christ, what keeps you there?”
It was not nails, it was love for me. The blood and tears, they blind His eyes
It was not by strength and it was not by might. With His last breath, for all to hear
Released His soul, “It is finished!”

The clouds roll in, blood soaks the ground, the tomb is sealed, no one makes a sound
The darkest days, the coldest nights, it all seems lost without their Christ
Now Sunday morn’ before the sun, the angel waits, the women come
“Do living dwell within the grave? He once was dead, but He is risen!”

What more is there than Jesus Christ? What gift compares eternal life?
My sin and shame, they striped His back. His offering, it cuts my heart

What more is there, what higher cause than give my life as you gave yours?
To take my cross, my easy load, to follow you, my humble Lord

What greater power than love divine? What ruler peers this King of mine?
All accolade, I gladly give; For me He died
For Him I live, for Him I live
For Him I live, for Him I live