It's that time of day, When the sky turned gray, And, compassion turned away, The thing that "did not happen in a corner," Would turn Her, Into an eternal mourner. Does it make you cross, It happened in front of "crowds of people," Tiberius did 'em in, For all of us, Again, I ask, Does the task, Make you cross? Meted out punishment, For which there was no crime, We'll meet our conscious, Over time, Blame more than Pontius, For inhumane treatment, As the crowd roars out, "Nail another to the cross," Does it make you cross? Suffering in Sudan, Another fatal blow in the Congo, Boast death along the Ivory Coast, Whack Iraq, Than, Afghanistan, again. To all... a grave loss... Does "nailin' em to the cross," Make you cross?
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