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,