It should have been a kingly crown, With gold and diamonds all around. The previous brow with jewels adorn, Instead He wore my Crown of Thorns. The poet's rhyme could not express The depths of my unworthiness Nor could the songs of seraphims Convey my praise and love for him. He wore my crown of thorns and died Upon my cross they pierced his side And it was me that should have borne The cross, the nails, this crown of thorns The cross, the nails, this crown of thorns. The grace of Christ is like a rose Whose beauty shines and daily grows But just beside the grace we see Our thorns and pain, he bore for me. He wore my crown of thorns and died Upon my cross they pierced his side And it was me that should have borne The cross, the nails, this crown of thorns The cross, the nails, this crown of thorns. I should have on the cross. In this grace, He wore my nails, my crown of thorns.