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Father was a Centurion, proud to be,
I would be just like him, wait and see.
Growing up, we lived near Galilee,
Tutors and servants all took care of me.

Now Tomas was a servant father had freed,
He stayed to teach me how to write and read.
Once he became so sick the doctors said,
He'll die very soon, keep him in bed.

Then father heard about some Nazarene,
Doing things that none had ever seen.
Father became convinced this man was real,
He went and asked if Tomas He would heal.

This Jesus said, 'Lead me to his bed',
But father said, 'Just say the word instead'. 
So Jesus said, 'He's healed, go your way',
And sure enough he was, that very day!

Soon, it was my honor to join the 'Legion',
Not long 'till I oversaw the whole region.
One day there arose a great commotion,
From people once filled with great devotion.

And I had seen too many mobs like this
They wanted someone's blood, not justice.
But He would not respond to questions asked,
Things got out of hand, so very fast.

We beat and cursed Him, ridiculed His Name,
We made Him stand before that crowd in shame.
Pilate said, "He's guiltless, take Him away."
But they would have no less than death this day.







Pilate washed his hands when he heard them cry,
"Barrabas set free;  Jesus, Crucify!"
He drug that cross and stumbled up the street,Until He fell and couldn't regain His feet.

The other two were tied with leather bands,
Him, we nailed down both feet and hands.
As one made fun, the other spoke tenderly,
'Lord, when You get Home, remember me'.

I was close and I could hear Him say:
'You'll be with me in Paradise today.'
Then, at the end, I heard Him pray:
'Father, my Spirit's Yours, while I'm away.'

Suddenly, the sky turned black as night,
Thunder boomed, and lightning struck with might!
Finally, their lust for death was fed.
One last stab, but He was already dead.

He'd hung up there in agony and shame.
'King of the Jews'  written above His Name.
But I knew then and I just had to say,
"That was God's own Son we killed today!"

How could I ask Him now to forgive?
After I drove the nails into Him.
I shoved the spear into His side,
I'm the one who made sure that He died.

Three days later I was at His tomb,
Aware within my heart of my own doom.
Through the night, guarding death's dark door,
Then I awoke to find it sealed no more.

The Jewish rulers paid a handsome price,
For us to spread about their viscious lies.
But I knew then, and I just had to say,
That was God's own Son, but He lives today!
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