THE MAN COMES AROUND

this song was played at my grandpa, Keith Morey's, funeral last week. i don't really know how to write about one's passing so i won't. I would like to write about his life though, eventually, in a book or memoir of some sort. i'm still in the early brainstorming period. he just has so many outrageous and interesting experiences of anyone. he was one of the most amazing people i ever knew, and a lot of other people would agree. I just know, as my mom would say, "there's a big 6ft7 hole in the world now."

THE MAN COMES AROUND

There's a man going around taking names and he decides
Who to free and who to blame every body won't be treated
Quite the same there will be a golden ladder reaching down
When the man comes around

The hairs on your arm will stand up at the terror in each
Sip and each sup will you partake of that last offered cup
Or disappear into the potter's ground
When the man comes around

CHORUS

Hear the trumpets hear the pipers one hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to a big kettledrum
Voices calling and voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
Its alpha and omegas kingdom come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn trees
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn trees
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks
Till Armageddon no shalom no shalom

Then the father hen will call his chicken's home
The wise man will bow down before the thorn and at his feet
They will cast the golden crowns
When the man comes around

Whoever is unjust let him be unjust still
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still
Whoever is filthy let him be filthy still
Listen to the words long written down
When the man comes around

CHORUS

Hear the trumpets hear the pipers one hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to a big kettledrum
Voices calling and voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
Its alpha and omegas kingdom come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn trees
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn trees
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks
In measured hundred weight and penny pound
When the man comes around

There's a man going round taking names
And he decides who to free and who to blame
Everybody won't be treated all the same
There'll be a golden ladder reachin down
When the man comes around