Three Rusty nails

This is a story of long ago

Of a man who owned a little store

And he said I was proud to have my name up over the door

It was some 2000 years ago as I recall

Located in Jerusalem across the street from Pilate's hall

I thought I had everything that anyone would need

And folks would come from miles around regardless of their creed

The only thing I had I didn't think I'd ever sell

Was in a corner on a shelf three old rusty spiked nails

And then one day a big Roman soldier came through the door

As he walked up to me it seemed he shook the floor

I said can I help you sir with a voice I guess seemed frail

He looked at me with a sneering grin

And said I want to buy some big, big nails

Three old rusty spikes is all I have

He said to me that'll do

For the job I have three's enough

Now how much do I owe you

He put the money in my hand

And I was glad to make the sale

Then I wondered and asked him sir

What can you do with just three nails

He said did ever you hear of a man called Jesus the Nazarene

You mean the one who goes about doing good

Yes that's the man

Well today I intend to show the world that I am boss

For with these three old rusty spikes

I'm going to nail Jesus to the cross

I stood there almost numb

And you'll never know how I felt

I said please don't do that

As down on my knees I knelt

He just turned and walked away

And I got up and followed him

I said please I'll buy them back

But he just looked at me and grinned

But in the distance I could see the howling mob

Through the tears that filled my eyes

Away with him, crucify him

I could hear their angry cries

And over the top of all the noise and groans of agony

I could hear the sound of the hammer

As that big Roman soldier nailed Jesus to the tree

With three rusty nails

They nailed Jesus to the tree