Written by James K. Baxter, 1958.
When His tears ran down like blood
I was sleeping in my clothesWhen they struck Him with a reed
I cracked a very clever jokeWhen they gave Him a shirt of blood
I praised the colour of her dressAll the way up the hill
We were laughing fit to killWhen they were driving in the nails
I listened to the steel guitarWhen they gave Him gall to drink
We were sipping the same glassWhen He cried aloud in pain
We were playing JudasesWhen the ground began to shake
We pulled up the coverletClean confessed and comforted
To the midnight mass I comeYou who died in pain alone
Break my heart break my heart
Deus sine termino.