The Three NailsThis is a story of long ago---of a man who owned a little store.As he would tell it, "I was proud to have my name above the door." This took place, oh, about two thousand years ago, as I recall, I was located in Jerusalem, just across the street from Pilate's hall. And I had everything anyone would ever need; Why, folks would come from miles around, regardless of their creed. But there was only thing I had I thought would never sell, So I placed it in a corner on a shelf ----three old rusty spike nails. Then one day a Roman soldier came through the door, And as he walked up to me, it seemed he shook the floor. I said, "Can I help you, Sir?" in a voice I 'm sure seemed frail. He looked at me with a sneering grin and said, "I'd like to buy some nails - some big, big nails." "Well, you see, Sir, three's all I have." "Oh, That'll do. For the job I have, three's enough - - - Now how much do I owe you?" He placed the money in my hand, and I was glad to make the sale. Then I began to wonder, and I asked, "Sir, what can you do with just three spike nails?" "Did you ever hear of a man called Jesus the Nazarene?" "You mean the one they call the Son of God?" "Yes, that's the one. Today I intend to show the world who's boss, For with these three nails I'm going to nail that man Jesus to a cross." You'll never know how numb I felt - as on my knees I fell. "Please sir, don't do that!" - but he just turned and walked away I said, "Please, let me buy them back!" But he just looked at me and grinned. And in the distance, I could see the howling mob Through the tears that filled my eyes. "Away with him" "Crucify him!" I could hear their angry cries. But over the top of all the noise and groans of agony, I can still hear the sound of a hammer as that big Roman soldier Nailed my Jesus to a tree." With three rusty nails, they nailed Jesus to a tree; And His blood washed my sins, away. Written and published by Jimmie Davis Music Co., Inc. Words adapted for use by David Zimmerman Back to Christian Poetry
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