Ever tried to look inside that cup, deep
And crimson bought with blood.  It is a cup
Best drunk slowly, for every drop has a
Meaning.  Its taste is sweet to those that drink,
But to him there was a bitter twist; brought
Life where death prevailed.  What manner of love
He had, for to drink such a cup.  It was
A love forged in heaven.  A love for a
People chosen.  You will see when you look
Inside that cup; full of burden, woe and
Sorrow.  It’s a cup best lifted by the
One who drinks in faith, the weight would sink the
Man that held it high; humble the man that
Knows the truth.  Wrath did fill that holy cup;
Righteousness emptied that cup.  My grip could
Not hold it, except he lifts it with me;
My lips could not taste, lest he did make me.

“ ... Ever tried to live that cup ... ?”