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My Innocent Jesus
He went up onto the Mount of Olives.
For it came the time for Him, to watch and pray.
The sweat, like drops of blood, kept falling.
“Father, if Your will, then take this cup away.
They beat Him; and they scorned Him.
Then, they sentenced Him to die.
Like a lamb that’s led to slaughter…
He uttered not, a cry.
Chorus: Oh, they came and took my innocent Jesus;
and they hung Him on Calvary, where I was supposed to be.
He wore a crown of thorns on His head.
When it should have been me, instead.
Yes, they crucified the King of all Kings and set me free.
As He took the cross, up to the place, Golgotha.
Even Pilate knew this man had done no crime.
The stubborn will of man had caused His heart to break;
and the sins upon His back were yours and mine.
They cursed Him. Still, He loved them.
As He hung, between the two. He said,
“Father, please forgive them. They know not what they do.”
Bridge: If it had been you or me on that cross,
the souls of our kind would forever be lost. Now I see…
Chorus: Why they came and took my innocent Jesus;
and they hung Him on Calvary where I was supposed to be.
He wore a crown of thorns on His head;
when it should have been me, instead.
Yes, they crucified the King of all Kings and set me free.
When they crucified the King of all Kings, He set me free.
b. connelly (written in 1990)
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