Wake up John, it's time to go
Come along John and don't be slow
Come along John, don't be slow
Wake up John, it's time to go
Wake up John, it's time to go
A priest joins the procession just to help me kneel
With a warder at my elbow and another at my heel
Marching in the morning down a path I've lately seen
I was sleeping in this garden, am I still within my dream?
The echo of my heartbeat is the beating of a drum
And all the earth is singing with life's sweet hum
We filed in solemn silence, shuffled through a door
The place where life is taken for the letter of the law
Shake the holy water, summon up the guard
Dying's very easy, waiting's very hard
A rope was hanging from the roof, a sight which puzzles me
I thought a gibbet and a guard would make a gallows tree
But now all is revealed, stamped there is the command
My feet are on the trapdoor with a rope around my hand
And now the executioner is shaking hands with me
"My duty I must carry out, you poor fellow," says he
A strap is tied around my feet and a bag upon my head
And then the noose which separates the living from the dead
Shake the holy water, summon up the guard
Dying's very easy, waiting's very hard
There he whispers to me "Have you anything to say?"
My mouth is dry, my throat is tight, I answer "Drop away"
Silence now surrounds me, my heart is beating on
The trapdoor hardly moves at all, my life is still my own
They stand me in a corner with my hands and feet still bound
While a carpenter is called for and an explanation found
"The rain has warped the timbers," I hear the hangman say
"It's funny but it worked well, I tried it yesterday"
"All is mended now," they say, "your ordeal's nearly over
Your life's as good as ended," but I hear their voices waver
Once more the ? board is shaked ? and again I hang in limbo
While the guards jump on the trapdoor and my body stands on tip-toe
Shake the holy water, summon up the guard
Dying's very easy, waiting's very hard
They stand me in a corner with my hands and feet still tied
A warder holds onto the noose, the trapdoor opens wide
Is it magic or coincidence that keeps me on the brink?
It seems to work without me, "Will it kill me now?" I think
"Please, I'm tired of living and I really want to die"
I was taken to the scaffold and I heard the hangman cry
"Lee, I'm truly sorry, forgive these hands of mine"
He drew the bolt and I felt the jolt the third and final time
My life was spared that morning 'cos it wasn't theirs to take
Three's the most the law requires a man to feel the stake
Shake the holy water, summon up the guard
Dying's very easy, waiting's very hard
Come along John and don't be slow
Come along John, don't be slow
Wake up John, it's time to go
Wake up John, it's time to go
A priest joins the procession just to help me kneel
With a warder at my elbow and another at my heel
Marching in the morning down a path I've lately seen
I was sleeping in this garden, am I still within my dream?
The echo of my heartbeat is the beating of a drum
And all the earth is singing with life's sweet hum
We filed in solemn silence, shuffled through a door
The place where life is taken for the letter of the law
Shake the holy water, summon up the guard
Dying's very easy, waiting's very hard
A rope was hanging from the roof, a sight which puzzles me
I thought a gibbet and a guard would make a gallows tree
But now all is revealed, stamped there is the command
My feet are on the trapdoor with a rope around my hand
And now the executioner is shaking hands with me
"My duty I must carry out, you poor fellow," says he
A strap is tied around my feet and a bag upon my head
And then the noose which separates the living from the dead
Shake the holy water, summon up the guard
Dying's very easy, waiting's very hard
There he whispers to me "Have you anything to say?"
My mouth is dry, my throat is tight, I answer "Drop away"
Silence now surrounds me, my heart is beating on
The trapdoor hardly moves at all, my life is still my own
They stand me in a corner with my hands and feet still bound
While a carpenter is called for and an explanation found
"The rain has warped the timbers," I hear the hangman say
"It's funny but it worked well, I tried it yesterday"
"All is mended now," they say, "your ordeal's nearly over
Your life's as good as ended," but I hear their voices waver
Once more the ? board is shaked ? and again I hang in limbo
While the guards jump on the trapdoor and my body stands on tip-toe
Shake the holy water, summon up the guard
Dying's very easy, waiting's very hard
They stand me in a corner with my hands and feet still tied
A warder holds onto the noose, the trapdoor opens wide
Is it magic or coincidence that keeps me on the brink?
It seems to work without me, "Will it kill me now?" I think
"Please, I'm tired of living and I really want to die"
I was taken to the scaffold and I heard the hangman cry
"Lee, I'm truly sorry, forgive these hands of mine"
He drew the bolt and I felt the jolt the third and final time
My life was spared that morning 'cos it wasn't theirs to take
Three's the most the law requires a man to feel the stake
Shake the holy water, summon up the guard
Dying's very easy, waiting's very hard
Contributed by Bernart - 2013/8/13 - 10:46
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Scritta da Dave Swarbrick e Dave Pegg
E’ la canzone che chiude il concept album intitolato “‘Babbacombe’ Lee”.
Nell’edizione originale del 1971 i brani non erano distinti ma accorpati in cinque lunghe suite.
Questo era ovviamente contenuto nell’ultima intitolata “When it comes, he cannot sleep, but when he does, a strange, prophetic dream comes to him, and helps him to bear the strain of his next day's ordeal as scaffold and its crew try in vain three times to take his life.”
Un concept album dedicato a John Henry George Lee (1864-1945), meglio conosciuto come John "Babbacombe" Lee o, ancora meglio, come "The Man They Couldn't Hang", un uomo originario del Devon inglese che nel 1884 fu accusato dell’omicidio di una donna. Lui si professò sempre innocente ma venne condannato a morte a seguito di un processo completamente indiziario. Il 23 febbraio 1885 fu condotto al patibolo ma il boia per ben tre volte non riuscì a giustiziarlo. La pena per il fortunato “Uomo che non poterono impiccare” fu commutata in ergastolo ma le circostanze della sua tentata esecuzione non portarono certo all’abolizione della pena di morte, soltanto al miglioramento dell’affidabilità delle forche.
Nel 1907 John "Babbacombe" Lee fu rilasciato, cercò per un po’ di sfruttare la notorietà acquisita ma presto di lui si persero le tracce. Emigrato negli USA, pare che sia morto nel 1945 a Milwaukee, Wisconsin, dove è sepolto con il nome di James Lee.
A John "Babbacombe" Lee si ispirarono certo The Men They Couldn' t Hang per il nome della loro formazione…