I'm not on an ego trip,
I'm nothing on my own;
I make mistakes and often slip,
I'm just flesh and bone.
But I'll prove someday why I say
that I'm of a special kind.
When He was on the cross,
 I was on His mind.

A look of love was on His face,
 thorns were on His head,
Blood was on His precious robe,
and it stained it a crimson red.
Though His eyes were on the crowd that day,
He looked ahead in time,
When He was on the cross, I was on His mind.

He knew me, yet He loved me.
He whose glory makes the heavens shine.
I'm so unworthy of such mercy,
When He was on the cross, I was on His mind.