| Somewhere, he lost it in a turn
|
| Now trouble seems to fit him like a glove
|
| First come, first served, he’s serving it back
|
| He travels light, without a pack, without love
|
| He comes from nowhere an’he turns on his own
|
| Late for the hanging, yes he’s headed for the moon
|
| An’hang 'em high
|
| Leather 'cross his thighs
|
| Blasting out the night, his cap hides his eyes
|
| One eye on the road, price upon his head
|
| One ear to the ground, he’s listening to the dead
|
| He comes from nowhere an’he turns on his own
|
| Late for the hanging, yes he’s headed for the moon
|
| An’hang 'em high
|
| Blind to himself, an’he’s laughing up his scheme
|
| Looking back in anger, the city is relieved
|
| Vision of light, child of the night passing by
|
| (Guitar Solo)
|
| Blind to himself, he’s laughing up his scheme
|
| Looking back in anger, the city is relieved
|
| A vision of light, child of the night passing by Leather 'cross his thigh
|
| Blasting out the night, his cap hides his eyes
|
| One eye on the road, price upon his head
|
| One ear to the ground, he’s listening to the dead
|
| He comes from nowhere, an’he turns on his own
|
| Late for the hanging, yes he’s headed for the moon
|
| An’hang 'em high |