On a tree they killed my king.
My sins caused Him hanging
In misery, crying out to His Father.
The soldiers did not bother
Caring what he said when he forgave.
But I did and now must be brave
To live every day for Him.
Although I fail and fall into sin
At times,
I dwell not on my crimes.
Because I still remember:
They were blowing hard
The winds that spring day.
I looked up, he smiled
Down on me His pardon.
My sins were washed away
when on that cross death He defied.