Árvore da Cruz

I wanted to know from the woodcutter himself
Which wood he used to make the cross
Although I feel that the tree
Cried when it fell to the ground
And the axe that worked it
Blinded by so much emotion

The cross was the heaviest
On the outside they only saw wood
But inside were my sins
On the outside they only saw wood
But inside were my sins

I wanted to know what the executioner felt
When he struck Jesus
With forty lashes
Leaving so many welts on the one
Who only did good
Maybe the executioner felt
The pain of the lashes too

I wanted to know why the earth trembled
And the Sun withdrew and night came
If it was a protest to the crime
Of the author of creation
They proved to have more feelings
They showed to have more heart