| When he died his mother cried. The evil one thaught he had won. But on the thrid day, we would all say "were did he go". The women and children cryed "No"! ... A voice shouted I am here, I am near. I have risen from the grave and the Devil is no longer the brave. Come here and touch my side, where the spear made its long stride. Touch my hands and my feet and let me tell you of my lonely walk on the street. To the hill, where the people were waiting for the kill. Where they spat, watched and sat. Although it was my pain, it was your gain. In a little wile I will go home and build you a house of metal and crome So that where I will be you will also see. This is my story of my saviors glory. |