Outside the cats are scratching
|
Inside the doors are latching
|
On the room, the greedy gloom
|
The trial is revealed
|
Police are six feet deep
|
With switchblades in their teeth
|
So no one leaves and they all believe
|
This is absolutely real
|
Yes, it's real
|
And the Sergeant says, "Are you ready, boys?
|
Get ready, boys
|
Aim...
|
And Fire...
|
|
Order in the court
|
People ready for the sport
|
They squirm and squeak and lick their beaks
|
And grease their feathers down
|
Everybody rise
|
Judge is here with bathroom eyes
|
A Grizzly bear, he hugs his chair
|
And the greedy gavel pounds
|
Yes, it pounds
|
And the Sergeant says, "Are you ready, boys?
|
Get ready, boys
|
Aim...
|
And Fire...
|
|
In the dungeon s(?) falls
|
Writing appeals upon the wall
|
And the priest in prayers is not even there
|
So precious is his time
|
To the stake he's tied
|
The swallows sing the triggers slide
|
he bids goodbye to the wattery sky that plunges from his mind
|
From his mind
|
And the Sergeant says, "Are you ready, boys?
|
Get ready, boys
|
Aim...
|
And Fire...
|
|
-----------------
|
The Trial
|
| Phil Ochs |
