The cross of the fingers

The Cross of the tree

The wood does not lie

To others or to me

The Cross is a singer

The Cross is a plea

It always will try

To serenade thee

The Cross is a bringer

The Cross is a sea

In the bright of the sky

And the light of the Three

The Cross is a stringer

The Cross is the key

A glorious cry

Yet hard to see

The Cross has a stinger

The Cross is a bee

You surely will die

You surely will bleed

The Cross doth linger

The Cross is free

Embrace your sigh

Just as He