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