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10 000 Maniacs
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I?m not the man (unplugged)
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Current song lyrics
[ Music & Lyrics : Natalie Merchant ] <br /><br />It crawls on his back, won't ever let him be. <br />Stares at the walls until the cinder blocks can breathe. <br />His eyes have gone away, escaping over time. <br />He rules a crowded nation inside his mind. <br /><br />He knows that night like his hand. <br />He knows every move he made. <br />Late shift, the bell that rang, a time card won't fade. <br />10:05 his truck pulled home. <br />10:05 he climbed his stair, about the time he was accused of being there. <br /><br />But I'm not the man. <br />He goes free as I wait on the row for the man to test the rope he'll slip around my throat... <br />and silence me. <br /><br />On the day he was tried no witnesses testified. <br />Nothing but evidence, not hard to falsify. <br />His own confession was a prosecutor's prize, <br />made up of fear, of rage and of outright lies. <br /><br />But I'm not the man. <br />He goes free as the candle vigil glows, as they burn my clothes. <br />As the crowd cries, "Hang him slow!" and I feel my blood go cold, he goes free. <br /><br />Call out the KKK, they're wild after me. <br />And with that frenzied look of half-demented zeal, <br />they'd love to serve me up my final meal. <br />Who'll read my final rite and hear my last appeal? <br />Who struck this devil's deal?
New song lyrics
[ Music & Lyrics : Natalie Merchant ] <br /><br />It crawls on his back, won't ever let him be. <br />Stares at the walls until the cinder blocks can breathe. <br />His eyes have gone away, escaping over time. <br />He rules a crowded nation inside his mind. <br /><br />He knows that night like his hand. <br />He knows every move he made. <br />Late shift, the bell that rang, a time card won't fade. <br />10:05 his truck pulled home. <br />10:05 he climbed his stair, about the time he was accused of being there. <br /><br />But I'm not the man. <br />He goes free as I wait on the row for the man to test the rope he'll slip around my throat... <br />and silence me. <br /><br />On the day he was tried no witnesses testified. <br />Nothing but evidence, not hard to falsify. <br />His own confession was a prosecutor's prize, <br />made up of fear, of rage and of outright lies. <br /><br />But I'm not the man. <br />He goes free as the candle vigil glows, as they burn my clothes. <br />As the crowd cries, "Hang him slow!" and I feel my blood go cold, he goes free. <br /><br />Call out the KKK, they're wild after me. <br />And with that frenzied look of half-demented zeal, <br />they'd love to serve me up my final meal. <br />Who'll read my final rite and hear my last appeal? <br />Who struck this devil's deal?
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