Feel the coil slightly tighten,
as crimes you committed
are tales that truly frighten

Stood above the pit they call the trapdoor,
you sweat, you clench, you smell their stench
as you await your disappearance through this manmade floor

No decoration can hide your bowels now from stirring,
as you killed, you maimed, as blood did spill
you wretched man, **** Turpin

Now tales are told of your dare and wit,
as these were all **** lies
hanging now dead from this wooden kit

The hanging square for folk like you, once in the city of York,
a thousand gathered to watch you hang
well that was of such talk

But now you live on in tales of woes and whys,
for your known the world over,
from Dundee down to Dover
alas,

A Legend Never Dies

JJB