the big day has come

the bell is sounding

i run my hands through my hair one last time

outside the prison walls

the town is gathering

people are trading crime for crime



everyone needs to see the prisoner

they need to make it even easier

they see me as a symbol, and not a human being

that way they can kill me

say it's not murder, it's a metaphor

we are killing off our own failure

and starting clean



standing in the gallows

everyone turned my way

i hear a voice ask me

if I've got any last words to say

and i'm looking out over the field of familiar eyes

somewhere in a woman's arms a baby cries



i think guilt and innocence

they are a matter of degree

what might be justice to you

might not be justice to me

i went to far, i'm sorry

i guess now i'm going home

so let any amongst you cast the first stone

now we've got all these complicated machines

so no one person ever has to have blood on their hands

we've got complex organizations

and if everyone just does their job

no one person has to understand



you might be the wrong colour

you might be too poor

justice isn't something just anyone can afford

you might not pull the trigger

you might be out in the car

and you might get a lethal injection

'cause we take a metaphor that far



the big day has come

the bell is sounding

i run my hands through my hair one last time

outside the prison walls

the town has gathered

people are trading crime for crime

people are trading crime for crime

people are still trading crime for crime