Some celebrate but once a year
 A day the church describes as good
 The day a sinless man was nailed
 Upon a Roman cross of wood

 The first one was about a man
 Deserted by his earthly friends
 It wasn't good, it wasn't fair
 And so we try to make amends

 We go to church, we give out gifts
 But we forget He had to die
 He gave His flesh, He gave His blood
 By faith, we eat, we drink, we die.

 Unless we die to our despair
 And live in hope of future life
 The resurrection was a hoax
 And death will cut us like a knife

 In faith we live, in faith we die
 His death becomes our living hope
 That when our life has petered out
 That's not a problem, God can cope

 He made us first, as Adam's seed
 From dust of earth on which He breathed
 And when our flesh returns to dust
 The second Adam whom we trust
 Will then fulfil our greatest need

 Greg Annett, 29th March 2002