Lyrics:

Let him swing at the dawn from the holy rafters,

What a jolly way to salute our tribe.

List all his crimes and his uncouth actions,

Tell me this man deserves not to die?

But no dear Sir, it’s not for me to tell,

If this man is for heaven, this man is for hell.

No dear Sir, there’s a doubt I can’t quell,

But for the favour of the preacher,

I could be that creature as well...

Let them live by the words of our holy gospel,

The greengrocers’ daughter would be proud.

Keep the flame on the highest bower,

Far from the reach of the maddening crowed.

But oh, dear me it’s all gone to hell,

And the pitchfork peasants are ringing at the bell.

Oh at least the party was swell,

But there’s no one on the tiller,

And the captains in the rivers swell.

For all those days in that rambling haze when I was nearly young.

How I wished my heart could cross the sea and there it would succumb.

To all that longing, noble cause, and all those wistful songs,

But no never, the gypsy boy nor the homestead son.

I watched the ships go sailing by sow certain in their course.

How they danced betwixt the water and the salty breeze, my landlock feet they scorn.

But I also watched the stars rolled by found wisdom in the vixen’s call,

For I too have been a rambling just paths you would know.

But whatever happened to that braw young heart?

Did it drown in the liquor, was it eaten by the shark?

Sway together in that same old way,

While the clerks set a date for your judgment day.

So let them swing at the dawn from the holy rafters,

The artists, the prophets, and the old sad clown.

To doubt or to question is to blaspheme progress,

Don’t look back and don’t look down!

But oh, dear me theres a breach in the hull

Theres a crack in the rafter where we hung the noose from.

Oh, dear me its all gone wrong,

For it may be very little but there is still hope in the song