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John told me the gruesome story
How they led my Lord to die.
Pilate wanted to release him
But the crowd screamed "Crucify!"
The soldiers mocked the King of Glory
They beat him while blood flowed down.
And when at last they tired of playing
They made him bear his own cross.
He stumbled and fell so they made Simon
From Cyrene carry it up the hill.
They laid him down up on Calvary
Driving nails through hands and feet.
He screamed in pain as the blows fell
The crowd screamed out in glee.
They raised the cross up toward Heaven;
His stood between two thieves.
"We'll believe you," the Jews said,
"If you'll come down from there."
Even the thieves cursed and mocked him
But one of them finally changed his mind.
"Father forgive them," he cried once,
Later, he spoke to John,
"John, behold your mother;
Mary, behold your son."
Around three o'clock there was darkness
"Why hast thou forsaken me!"
When he shouted, "It is finished!"
He bowed his head in death.
Over and over I wondered
Why did he have to die?