Barabbas

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BARABBAS

I lived two thousand years ago
A thief, a rebel was I
My name is Barabbas
And I was condemned to die

On Friday morning the jailer came
In the early light I could see
As he dragged two thieves away he said
Barabbas you can go free

The crowd outside was angry
And I could hear them roar
Barabbas, Barabbas as the jailer unlocked my door

I made my way through the city gates
Out to Mt. Calvary
Instead of two crosses on that hill
I could see that there were three

Who's hanging there upon my cross
The one they built for me
Who's dying there in the middle
That Barabbas might be free

A purple robe, a crown of thorns
A face forgiving and kind
Nailed to the cross on Calvary
The cross that should have been mine

I lived two thousand years ago
A sinner friend like you
My name is Barabbas
But yours is Barabbas too


©Eldred Hill(Lonesome Note Music-BMI)

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