I'm not on an ego trip, I'm nothing on my own, I make mistakes, I often slip, I'm just common flesh and bone, But I'll prove some day, just why I say that I'm of a special kind, for when he was on the cross, I was on his mind.
Oh, a look of love was on his face, and thorns were on his head, blood was on his scarlet robe, stained a crimson red, though his eyes were on the crowd that day, he looked ahead in time- for when he was on the cross, you see, I was on his mind
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