My parents who live above
Who cares for me these years
Is that tender heart of love
Pierced by the soldiers spears.

My God with the monstrous hands
Who guides the world in space
Is the one men bound with bands
And spit upon his face.

Not a star for him has failed
As the space they flit across
Yet a mortal had him nailed
Upon a cruel cross.

When I think of that sad morn
And the Saviour I made die
How I wish I was not born
I repent in grief and cry.