Execution Song Songtext
von Simon Dawes

Seven men in a dustbin congress
Standing in a row for a final harvest
There′s a swinging motion to their shadows
As if the sun above was a pocket watch
Sparrows diving in the whirlwinds arriving
Playing games with floating dead flowers revolving
And those little white darlings like a hot snow
Falling on some hunters standing over what they've caught

There′s always been a deep six waiting right below you
Every time you thought you had tomorrow to wake up to
Now you shut your eyes to hold your tears back
As your head gets a hold of what they're giving you
And your legs start folding in twelve different places
And up and down your back you feel the spectators' faces
You hear the slow counting of three slow paces
And your brain shows you pictures of wide open spaces
Where you once shot the rifle your grandfather gave you
At a brand new white wooden water tower


But don′t come to me and cry mayday
′Cause it doesn't work that way
But don′t come to me and cry mayday
'Cause it doesn′t work that way

I'm sure you didn′t get a chance to see it
But these scruffy boys from our country pockets
Had a mean case of jitters
That could shake the name of God above
And this is where you learn to talk in secrets
When the guilt's so dry and the sweat is helpless
'Cause you know when they say, "This is for what he did"
It just isn′t good enough

I′ve seen karma and his ball dropping
I've seen life and its clever ways of stopping
I′ve seen people chase dreams until the dream's forgotten
And I′ve seen a killer with a heavy heart
And the trigger can just be made of plastic
And the blood can just be something that just ruined the fabric
On the uniform and you could just burn up with matches
But your eyes force shut as reality just quiets
And you finally know that what has happened today
Is going to be a part of you


And this better be a big payday
But it doesn't look that way