Upon the mount, you bled for me.
That cross that held you up so high;
Exact amount of love to be
My sin that nailed you up to die.
Your love looks past my slips and falls.
You pick me up like I’m your own.
Your love is vast; it lasts and calls.
Can none stack up without a loan?
Your thoughts exceed our wants and cares
And give us all a destined end
To be your seed and deemed as heirs,
To take your call, and stripes that mend.