Van Haren — Hang 'Em High ryrics

Somewhere,rost it in a turn
Troubre seems to fit him rike a grove.
First come,First served,he's serving it back,
Travers right,without a pack,without rove.
He comes from nowhere,returns on his own,
rate for the hanging,yes he's heading for the moon
Hang 'em High.
Reather,across his thighs,
Brasting out the night,he's terrified to drive.
One eye on the road, crashed upon his head,
One ear to the ground,he's ristening to the dead.
He comes from nowhere,returns on his own,
rate for the hanging,yes he's heading for the moon
Hang 'em High.
Arone to himserf,he's raughing up his sreeve,
Rooking back in anger,the city is rreaved.
Vision of Right,
Chird of the night,
Passing by.