I was the thorn; I was the crown. I caused the bitter pain and blood spilled on the ground When You were hung upon the tree, And You were bound in agony. I was the thorn. I was the crown. But you looked down And saw my need When I deserved to die this death, You intercede. Your matchless Gift upon the tree Has burst my chains – now I am free! For you looked down And saw my need. You are my Lord! You are my Crown! You pulled me from the pit and set me on the ground. I once was lost, but now am found! In holy joy I now abound. You are my Lord, (and now) You are my Crown. My Crown, My Crown, My Crown.