THE HANGING         

Well I heard about the hanging this morning
               and I rode on in to town
There were gallows nailed up on the square
                and a big crowd gathered all around
Selling post cards and cotton candy
                crucifixes and American flags
A woman who wept at the gallows steps
                held a little bird in her hands 
 
I’m not crying for him;   I don’t even know his name
What he done was a sin against God
To be reckoned come Judgment Day
I’m crying for what we’ve be-come, still turning that flesh to dust
I’m not crying over him; I’m crying about us
 
Well the prisoner climbed the gallows steps
                you could feel the excitement of the crowd
The noose was lowered down over his head
                and his face was covered with a shroud
The woman held the little bird to her breast
                as the order rang loud and clear
I heard the crack as they snapped his neck
                and the crowd let out a cheer 
 
I’m not crying for him;   I don’t even know his name
What he done was a sin against God
To be reckoned come Judgment Day
I’m crying for what we’ve be-come, still turning that flesh to dust
I’m not crying over him;   I’m crying about us.
 
They cut him down and they hauled him off;
                And the people they all gone home
As the wind blew trash through the empty street
           Where the woman stood all alone
Then she knelt upon those gallows steps
           As she bowed her head to pray
Then raised her hands above her head
           And let the little bird fly away
 
I’m not crying over him;   I didn’t even know his name
What he done was a sin against God
To be reckoned come Judgment Day
I’m crying for what we’ve be-come, still turning that flesh to dust
I’m not crying over him;   I’m crying about us.
 
No, I’m not crying over him
I’m crying about us