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Friday Morning

Sydney Carter
Language: English


Sydney Carter


It was on a Friday morning
That they took me from the cell
And I saw they had a carpenter
To crucify as well.

You can blame it on to Pilate,
You can blame it on the Jews
You can blame it on the Devil.
It’s God I accuse.

“It’s God they ought to crucify
Instead of you and me,”
I said to the carpenter,
A-hanging on the tree.

You can blame it on to Adam,
You can blame it on to Eve.
You can blame it on the apple,
But that I can't believe.
It was God that made the Devil
And the woman and the man,
And there wouldn't be an apple
If it wasn't in the plan.

Now Barabbas was a killer
And they let Barabbas go,
But you are being crucified
For nothing that I know,
And your God is up in Heaven
And He doesn't do a thing,
With a million angels watching
And they never move a wing.

“To hell with Jehovah!”
To the carpenter, I said
“I wish that a carpenter
Had made the world instead.
Goodbye and good luck to you;
Our ways will soon divide.
Remember me tomorrow
The man you hung beside.”



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