It Won't Be Long

He kept his craft confined to the night
Subdued by sleep, we hate to wake up
He cataloged and counted his kills, divided the dead
And suddenly stopped
Prompted by the heat of July
The sweat on his skin beaded and fell
He never prayed a day in his life…
Cause man what’s the point when you’ve been promised to hell
There’s something to be said for the crowd
Which gathered and grew and erupted into song
He smiled as he toyed with the noose, and took up their words
Oh, it won’t be long
Oh, it won’t be long
Oh, it won’t be long
Oh, it won’t be long
Oh, it won’t be long
The tune collapsed, and the mob ceased their song…
Confused and in awe of the monster trained to sing
The hangman tightened up and leaned in
And offered the man a chance to speak before he’d swing
He cried out:
«Man and monsters both make mistakes
But for every man who cries and begs for time enough to breathe
You’ll find a million more monsters like me
Who’ll lick your world and laugh when we leave.»
Then the trap door released
Oh, it won’t be long