It seems to cut against all logic, What we claim that we have seen: Dead men do not rise, the lame Do not stand up and walk. And though we shout and scream a name It has no power from the tomb; And yet His name made these bowed legs Straighten out and move. The Sadducees come, much annoyed, For they know what all school-kids know: That bodies once the breath’s expired Cannot move, do not eat fish. But in their minds, where they refuse To listen, lies the knowledge that If anyone could raise the dead, He must surely be God. And we know, as we always knew, That dead men do not rise nor eat The fish that they sent to our nets, And know that our dull, stony hearts Cannot be made to roll away And send forth hearts of truth and flesh Unless the one who made the heart Bursts out forth from the grave.