Lord, my mind is so unsound-

the rest of me will soon follow;

they say I sold you out-

but Jesus Christ, that's not the whole story, is it?

To me you were just a carpenter

with ideas about the corruption of man;

and if there's one thing I know, it's corruption.

You rolled into town preaching up a storm-

a storm was coming, and it was you, dear God it was you-

and I always wanted to find something I thought I would die for:

you were it.

You were the one.

Things don't always go how you thought they would;

I swear I didn't know what they wanted to do to you,

but it doesn't matter now-

you looked at me like you were watching the sun go down for the last time-

and then you were gone.

This blood money has bought me one good hanging tree.

And as for my possessions;

my clothes can burn with my body-

the noose I leave to you.

You know me, Lord,

you know my way,

you know that I loved you,

within an inch of my life,

and I was loyal to a fault;

but I'm greedy as sin,

and it's cost us both so dearly-

it's done me in, in the end.

At least I wasn't Peter-

I never denied you anything.

Why do you think I chose to betray you with a kiss?