(Verse 1)
The moon is hanging heavy o’er the Garden path
The silver leaves are shivering in the breeze
He walks a little further, past the sleeping three
To fall among the roots of ancient trees
The dust of Galilee is dry upon His skin
But a different kind of thirst is waking up within.
(Verse 2)
The silence is a mountain that He climbs alone
He looks for just a vigil, just a friend
But sleep has claimed the ones who said they’d die for Him
Before the night has reached its bitter end
The wine of the communion is still wet upon their lips
While the world begins to slide into a dark eclipse.
(Chorus)
And the shadows stretch like fingers in the sand
While the weight of every soul is in His hand
"Abba, if this cup could pass me by
Let the morning sun break through a different sky
But not my will, let Yours be done instead"
Beneath the olive branches, bowing down His head.
(Verse 3)
The sweat is falling heavy, staining like the blood
That soon will wash the stones of Pilate’s floor
He sees the faces of the lost, the broken, and the blind
And knows exactly what the price is for
The trembling of His human heart is quieted by grace
As He prepares to look the coming storm right in the face.
(Bridge)
He could have called the lightning down
He could have walked away
He could have left the thorns behind
And lived another day
But Love is not a feeling, it’s the kneeling in the dirt
It’s choosing all the healing through the choosing of the hurt.
(Chorus)
And the shadows stretch like fingers in the sand
While the weight of every soul is in His hand
"Abba, if this cup could pass me by
Let the morning sun break through a different sky
But not my will, let Yours be done instead"
Beneath the olive branches, bowing down His head.
(Outro)
The torches flicker dimly at the gate
The kiss of the betrayer won't be late
He stands up in the garden, calm and still
Walking on to the slope of Calvary’s hill.
Not my will...
Not my will...
(Chorus)
And the shadows stretch like fingers in the sand
While the weight of every soul is in His hand
"Abba, if this cup could pass me by
Let the morning sun break through a different sky
But not my will, let Yours be done instead"
Beneath the olive branches, bowing down His head.
JMichaelCurry
