The word pressed against my chest
More precious than silver or gold
Sharper than any two edged sword
My heart beats ever closer
to the price only I can afford

Be still my tearing flesh
And beat on my beating heart
as my love for this world
Begins to tear me apart

Shots fired, outlaw down
as all the head waggers gather round
Trigger pulled, nails go deep
Nailed to the love of lost sheep

As it pierces through my chest
my heart pounds on the word
and though I gave my best
still my voice can’t be heard

Gather round and watch me pass
from life to death and back again
from the grave I will bring back life
But behind me I will leave your sin.

© Billy Charles Root

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