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