Tortured Conscience - The Trial

They say that He is a prophet
And that He is the one

They say that He
Is the Son of God
To bring us all our salvation

He is calling us hypocrites,
Stirring the people to riot
We cannot kill Him ourselves.
So let us pawn him off
To Pontius Pilate

The people love
This man called Christ
A riot He
Could certainly entice

Contradicting
That what we say
May He be dead
Before the end of day

Blasphemy filled
Within His words
The things He says
Are so absurd

We are holy,
We are just
We have to do
What we must

Price him that He
Be delivered
Pay Judas
30 pieces of silver

Betrayal supreme,
Forgiveness divine
A kiss upon the cheek
Will be the sign
The trial of Christ
May now commence
I know Herod
Will be convinced
That the words of Jesus
Shall be our downfall
This Man is dangerous
To Caesar and us all

Only a few will weep
And fewer will sorrow
But these peasants
Will forget Him by tomorrow

Gone will be He
And all His prophecies
To this mere man
They will never fall to their knees

We beg of you,
To find Him guilty
Let Him be crucified
Among the filthy

So let it be written
So let it be done
Let this Man's name
Be spoken by no one

"The people have chosen
The Nazarene to die
I cannot understand
Where your reasons lie
Jesus has done nothing
To deserve this fate
Barabas is the one
Who is filled with hate
My conscience is cleansed
Swept away like a flood
I wash my hands
Of this Man's blood"

It is finished