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