Oh mighty cross thou tool of death,

On thou I cling till my last breath.

All my sins nailed to thy frame,

All of my guilt, all of my shame.

It’s only wood, no ornate idol,

The One it bore gives it grand title.

For He made all and holds together,

All that He Loves, He Loves forever.

Its crimson stains worth more than gold,

Redeems my life from Satan’s hold.

Oh Jesus, Savior, who died for me,

Upon this wretched, awful tree.

To Him meant death, to me means life,

My soul’s been bought by such a price.

Shall I not lift my cross from Him,

And to His cross nail all my sins?

His Love for me I can’t deny,

My only question is: Why, Lord, why?

That You would suffer for likes of me,

You must see something I cannot see.

Oh cursed grave that swallows all,

The Mighty Christ refused not thy call.

He entered you, to bring me out,

You held not Him I have no doubt.

And by His victory o’er sin and death,

My soul finds peace, my soul finds rest.

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