‘A Son of a father’ - Barabbas by name, anxiously waiting his sentence to hear.
A notable prisoner who acquired much fame; - for his sins must die.
Barabbas was constantly breaking the Law, stirring up trouble, a rebel was he.
Perhaps there was blood on the clothing he wore - Up went the cry ...
“This man must die for the blood he has shed, murdering our people and stealing our goods,
Our lives would be better without him” ‘twas said - so alone he waits!
After a night without sleep, from his cell He can hear the footsteps that are coming for him.
One step by one brings him closer to hell - and it’s mighty gates.
His deafening heartbeat is telling the end, he waits for the warder to open the door.
There in the darkness without any friend - he longs for mercy.
The door is flung open, the light rushes in, three words from the prison guard shrouded in light,
Confused and half blinded, he can’t take it in - “Barabbas, you’re free”
There on the cross that for him was prepared, was somebody else, but who was this man?
Could anyone be with Barabbas compared - or worse than him?
The Son of The Father, for sinners was sent here to this place of suffering and shame,
Bore the wrath that for Barabbas was meant - against his sin.
The Man restored that which he took not away, for sin His pure soul unto God was poured out.
The Son who pleased always The Father each day - Unsearchable grace!
In dying He came to bring life to the few who accepted His words spake like never before,
And maybe Barabbas, for full well he knew - Christ died in his place.