BLOOD, IRON AND WOOD

 

Am       Am/G       Am/F      Am                  Am/G            Am/F

On the hillside,   calvary,  one man was bound to set all men free.

Am             Am/G                  Am/F                     E       Esus    E

The heavy cross bows him downward to the ground.

Am            Am/G       Am/F          Am         Am/G               Am/F

A Roman soldier, a cruel man, drives a spike into His hand,

Am                       Am/G                   Am/F         E    Esus    E

The blood flows down and covers all man  -  kind.

Am                 Am/G        Am/F               Am                   Am/G    Am/F

The crowd is mad with demonic glee, with souls as dark as Calvary,

Am                      Am/G                              Am/F              E    Esus    E

They curse and mock Him, some even spit into His face.

Am                 Am/G                             Am/F     Am              Am/G          Am/F

Still He does nothing, although He could,   escape this sacrifice,    blood, iron and wood.

Am             Am/G   Am/F               E    Esus    E

With only love He offers up this prayer.

 

"FATHER, FORGIVE THEM THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO"

 

 

CHORUS

Am                G                   F                                          Am           G              Am

Oh Lord, forgive me the things that I have done.   I’ve crucified Your only Son.

Am                    G               F                                                      E       Esus     E

And with each new sin, I drive the nails a little deeper in His hands.

 

 

The hour grows late, the jesters tire, the crowd is still with spent desire,

The flame of murder now cold as ashes in the dust.

The son of God stares into the skies, a thousand sorrows burning in His eyes,

With all emotion ever known to man He dries.

"MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?"

 

CHORUS

 

The earth it trembles, the heavens roar, the dead men walk, the curtain’s torn,

The frightenend crowd hide trembling in the shadow of the cross.

A bolt of lightning tears across the skies, a woman moans, a baby cries,

The Roman soldier has awe and sorrow in his eyes, the soldier cries!

 

CHORUS

 

 

Words and Music by Steve Tichenor

© First Step Publishing, 1974