| Stigmata I am the guilty, I am to blame, Forgiveness can�t cover up my shame. Never will I feel right in your eyes Until I feel what you spoke in your cries. So come Stigmata, come now for me, Come for the one who is unworthy. A crown of thorns upon your head, The blood on my face is just as red. The leather of the whip makes its crack And I feel your scars forming on my back. Nails of iron piercing your skin As my pains of guilt cry from within. Never before have I felt these pains As I feel the stigmata piercing my veins. I cry tears of the blood that remains As I see the blood of Jesus cleansing my stains. |