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( , Sun 1 Apr 2001, 1:00)
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There's a man goin' 'round takin' names.
An' he decides who to free and who to blame. Everybody won't be treated all the same. There'll be a golden ladder reaching down. When the man comes around.
The hairs on your arm will stand up.
At the terror in each sip and in each sup.
For you partake of that last offered cup,
Or disappear into the potter's ground.
When the man comes around.
( , Thu 13 Nov 2008, 11:05, Reply)
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