By One and All

Was in chapter seventeen that they told us of his loss; Of all his old transgressions and the sacrificial cost; Of the wives that had left him in the middle of the night When love was tossed out the door without putting up a fight. They told them of his passing through the hands that would not save, And stuck his fading picture on the cross that marked his grave. The towns folk stood in silence, not believing that they're free, Each had hoped to be the one that had strung him to the tree. Rains were falling long and hard in the midst of winter's chill, Yet every man and dog made that long march up the hill. No one had come for mourning or the words the priest had said, Ev'ry single one had come just to make sure he was dead!