With water droplets dripping from Pilate’s hands
The crowd man-handled Jesus, the son of God made man.
Crucify the blasphemer they shouted out with scorn
As they held a mock coronation with a crown of briar and thorn.
Rivulets of sacret blood ran down His frightened face
And made the mob laugh louder at this great King’s disgrace.
A cross they put upon his shoulder as he tried hard not to slip
Three times his body hit the ground and they lashed him with a whip.
Hands outstretched the nails went in, he screamed out with the pain,
Then His feet they overlapped as they nailed him to the frame.
Rising up His body weight pulled on the iron stakes
Adding to the torture while dying for our sakes.
Looking up He cried aloud, shouting to the sky,
My God My God where are You now, if you hear me let me die.
His head fell low his body slumped, with a lance they pierced his side,
Blood and water flowing out, this man had surely died.
Dark clouds gathered on Calvery’s hill, thunder and lighteneing broke,
The crowd they ran for cover, the Lord abaove had spoke.
Copyright FBN 1988.