With Cold, Dead Hands

Officer, I’m innocent Of what I am accused I didn’t kill The Preacher Man With what you say I used He’s lying in a pool of blood On the cold chapel floor And here you stand, you killed the man With cold, dead hands No sir, I did no such thing I never touched the man I didn’t kill the preacher With my cold, dead hands You have the right to say not a single word Until your judgement cometh We’ll hang you by the neck, but for Your cold, dead hands I wave that right, these hands are pure As honest as I stand I never killed that preacher With my cold, dead hands Of course you did, you have a grudge! For this you’ll go to hell! You’ll got to hell, ‘cause you rebelled You’ll spend your days in Satan’s cell! I know you killed the preacher With your cold, dead hands! You really think that I’m afraid? These hands are as warm as a gun! What I’ve begun, won’t be undone The fight for Reason will soon be won I didn’t kill the preacher with my cold, dead hands... I shot him with intent Between his cold, dead eyes