On a Sunday triumphant
They gave us the word
Every year in the springtime
The story is heard
When we’re given a chance
With all of our breath
To sing His hosannas
Then cry for His death
To the high wooden cross
From the manger so meek
Oh, what a journey
And, oh, what a week
How quick on that Monday
His spirit was burning
Zeal for His house
And the tables were turning
Tuesday so rapt
And He spoke to them all
Explaining again
How the temple would fall
Then Wednesday at Bethany
Preparing for trial
Did He know they were planning
Betrayal, denial?
A Thursday so Holy
At dinner and prayer
When He gave us the bread
That He said we should share
Friday of darkness
Despairing and doubt
When those that He led
Thought the light had gone out
To a day with just sorrow
To fear and to grieve
Not knowing at all
What to feel or believe
How the mighty have fallen!
But what a surprise
At the close of the week
How the mighty arise.
