IRC-Galleria

Dead men, dead men swinging in a tree.
How many dead men do you see?
Tongue turned blue and face gone grey.
Watch them as they twist and sway.

First one killed the butcher man.
Then cooked him in the frying pan.
Served him to his hungry guests.
and gave them seconds on request.

The next one with his smile and sweets.
Stole poor children off the streets.
To men who dressed unsavory.
He sold them to slavery.

Breaking into a home at night.
The tief he had a nasty fright.
Filled his foolish head with ale.
Woke in the morn in the country jail.

The artist with his daunting skill.
Tried his hand at painting bills.
But caught in rain he was undone.
When the ink he'd use did start to run.

Whit promises of great return.
Lacking gold he did not earn.
Fundled it up out of sight.
Quietly slipped off into night.

Three houses into ashes burned.
The sheriff with no place to turn.
Did spy a stranger to his town.
Locked him up and beat him down.

Dead men, dead men
swinging in a tree.
How many dead men do you see?
Six feet long and
six men wide.
Round their necks
the noose be tied.