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