The day was dark as the wind chilled the ground.
In that dark place, I there was found.
Slowly I began to hear the moans,
The cries, the tears, the hurts, the groans.
I asked, “What terrible thing has happened today?”
But despite my pleas, the crowd would not say.
Then I saw him hanging there,
Looking down with death's cold stare.
Upon a cross did this man die,
And watching him I began to cry.
Killed for something he didn't do,
His life was pure, faultless and true.
Who on earth could kill this man,
This loving, giving, holy lamb?
Who on earth could kill this man,
Spill his blood upon the sand?
Aloud I cried, “Who on earth could kill this man?”
Then I turned and saw the hammer in my hand.