Good Friday

and look me in the face, at least what’s left of it
tell me you still love me just a little bit
or nail me down, break the skin
hard enough to do me in
but don’t leave me hanging
dying and dangling
twisting in the wind

here, touch my side
let doubt be crucified
nailed with your wounded pride
to love’s grim altar
here, taste my flesh
my bloody humanness
i am no phantom guest
no skinless martyr

From “The Twist,”  words by Terry Taylor, Music by Terry Taylor, David Raven, Jerry Chamberlain and Tim Chander
©1988 Broken Songs

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