Jesus, you cry out
my God, my God, why
have you forsaken me
well, I ask you the same question
Jesus, my God, why have you forsaken me
like Adam I ran naked from the garden where you were
betrayed
exiled to this Valley of Dry Bones
waiting on you, the Son of Man, to rise up
and here you are, the Great Servant, raised above all
sitting on a throne with a crown adorning your brow
truly I am not surprised that criminals sit in the seats of
honor
but is death truly your answer
is death the only relief for a servant
does the widow with only two coins return home to share this
fate
does a man loose his demons only to face this end
your cup is too bitter to drink from
Christ, may I too drink from your cup
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