Who am I? I'm just the spikes of the thorn bush
That the soldiers picked up now as if to push
Into a crown as they headed out just in a rush
To push it down up on his skull as they went to shove
Him in the crowd as I went down just to cut
The top of his head as the blood now began to gush
Hit him on the side hit him in the gut
With they fists and a spike now plus a club
And as they hit him with the fisticuffs
The look up in his eyes well it was only love
Looking to the side as they went to pick him up
As he cried in a voice to the sky above
Father forgive them now just for what they done
But almost like that was just not enough
They took a cross then they made him pick it up
As the crowd screaming out now for his blood
What if well you was standing in the spot like
What if them crown of thorns they could talk then
What if man you could see him on the cross then
What would they say what would they say
Iron ore forged by the hands of man
The same hands of man that handed the son of man
Over to the sanhedrin im kept in the satchel of the centurion
Soldier a tool of execution for the romans
Pierced to the flesh of any man who opposes
Imperialism and the rulers who uphold it
I helped kill and innocent man who spoke with boldness
Jesus pilate found no cause to hold him
Condemned in secret crucified in the open
And on that cross it was my job to hold him
Klank driven through his wrist and the grain of a wooden plank
Klank and again and again klank
Into the wooden beams I sank
Then of his blood I drank
Tasted redemption and I couldn't bear the weight...
