I lived a life of freedom,
To have it all replaced.
By a life of judgement and trial,
A horror yet to be faced.
Murder the condemned,
For what they haven’t done.
String them up for songs
That have yet to be sung.
From the gallows they fall,
Into a pit of black dispair.
A murderous streak continues,
The country standing there.
They look on in distaste,
As more are hung in haste.
When the death toll starts to rise,
Upon this place,
God will close his eyes