| You say that You believe in us, at times I wonder why | 
| You say You see the Father in our eyes | 
| But I think if I were You, Lord, I’d wash my hands today | 
| And turn my back on all our alibis | 
| For we crucify each other, leaving a battered, wounded bride | 
| But Jesus loves the church | 
| So we’ll walk the aisle of history towards the marriage feast | 
| For Jesus loves the church | 
| We fight like selfish children, vying for that special prize | 
| We struggle with our gifts before Your face | 
| And I know You look with sorrow at the blindness in our eyes | 
| As we trip each other half-way through the race | 
| And we crucify each other, leaving a battered, wounded bride | 
| But Jesus loves the church | 
| So we’ll walk the aisle of history towards the marriage feast | 
| For Jesus loves the church | 
| I want to learn to love like You, I don’t know where to start | 
| I want to see them all but through Your eyes | 
| For You believed enough to live amidst the maddened crowd | 
| Enough to die before our very eyes | 
| And we crucify each other, leaving a battered, wounded bride | 
| But Jesus loves the church | 
| And so we’ll walk the aisle of history towards the marriage feast | 
| For Jesus loves the church | 
| Yes, we’ll walk the aisle of history towards the marriage feast | 
| For Jesus loves the church | 
| And as He hung in naked grief, bleeding for our crimes | 
| You saw our fickle hearts and cried, I love You, I love You | 
| You are mine, all mine | 
| I love you … |