The Hangman

[00:24.75] Into our town the Hangman came
[00:32.39] Smelling of gold and blood and flame
[00:35.36] And he paced our bricks with a diffident air
[00:41.16] And built his frame on the courthouse square

[00:47.04] The scaffold stood by the courthouse side
[00:55.12] Only as wide as the door was wide
[01:00.71] A frame as tall or a little more
[01:05.91] Than the capping sill of the courthouse door

[01:14.83] And we wondered, we had the time
[01:20.48] Who the criminal, what the crime
[01:26.47] The Hangman judged with the yellow twist
[01:31.87] Of knotted hemp in his busy fist

[01:38.00] And innocent though we were with dread
[01:43.70] We passed those eyes of buckshot lead
[01:48.62] Till one cried, "Hangman, who is he
[01:54.94] For whom you raise the gallows tree?"

[02:12.10] A twinkle grew in the buckshot eye
[02:17.70] He gave us a riddle instead of reply
[02:23.42] "He who served me the best," said he
[02:28.30] "Shall earn the rope on the gallows tree"

[02:34.13] The next day's sun looked mildly down
[02:39.25] On roof and street in our quiet town
[02:44.62] Stark and black in the morning air
[02:49.57] The gallows tree on the courthouse square
[02:54.89]