and if I may, our Vicar read this out.
Friday Morning by 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.
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
But your God is up in heaven and He doesn’t do a thing
With a million angels watching, and they never move a wing.
It’s God they ought to crucify instead of you and me
I said to the carpenter, a-hanging on the tree.
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 in heaven, as the man you hung beside.
Sydney Carter