How deep the Father’s love for us
How vast beyond all measure
That he should give his only Son
To make a wretch his treasure

How great the pain of searing loss
The Father turns his face away
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many sons to glory

Behold the man upon a cross
My sin upon his shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers

It was my sin that held him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished