Behind The Song: Hands Are Stained (The Cross, The Witness and Johnny Cash)

Behind The Song: Hands Are Stained (The Cross, The Witness and Johnny Cash) March 25, 2016
I have always been fascinated by the Crucifixion and what it must have been like to witness it.  I would imagine that, not having the full story of who Jesus was, yet having Him be who he was … it was a little out of the ordinary for those that saw it.  Crucifixions happened then, but this one must have seemed different than the others, by nature of what was actually happening.  Our Lord was willfully being killed … .

I wrote this song from the vantage of a witness.  A commoner in the most uncommon position.  I always imagined the witness having a look of bewilderment in his eyes, like when you witness a car crash or something that snaps the day’s order.  He has seen things, has been stirred to the core, and can not rest until he opens himself and lets it out. 

I have always heard this song in my head being sung by Johnny Cash … Maybe in Heaven

Happy Easter my friends
For the album version of Hands Are Stained

Hands Are Stained

There was water in the air when the verdict came
Three men are hanging out on county cane

They said don’t give a damn about the men we hanged
Because they were looking for trouble and their trouble came

His mother stayed standing by her baby’s side
And I can handle anything but that look in her eyes
As the storm came coming her baby died
I took my boys hand and pushed him off inside.

I can’t explain everything I saw
When the water fell I felt it fall
I held the feet of a Nazarene
My hands are stained I want them clean

It had to be three when I heard them call
That storms coming lets remove them all
His mother’s knees fell to the ground
And the sky was the color of a wedding gown

The soldier walked up to the condemned mans side
To test his wounds to assure he died
When his spear came up the sky it cried
The earth moaned and split open wide

I can’t explain everything I saw
When the water fell I felt it fall
I held the feet of a Nazarene
My hands are stained I want them clean

I remember what the third man said in his dying prayer
You took him in and you affirmed him there
In those last words I echo his plea
When this storm is through will you remember me

 


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