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