What have you done to die in anguish Upon your cross of wood? What sordid crimes of greed or passion, What deeds of blood? The watchers stared; they mocked or pitied, Or diced the hours away, The odd man out, instead of curses They heard you pray. So we must watch; ask all the questions; Evade the truth; or try To understand, as this world darkens, Why you must die. What to believe? We watch, we listen; Blinded by love, we see The inexplicable is simple - You died for me!