The Hangman's Tree
By Bruce Alan Marcom
[Pipe Organ]
In shadows deep, where ravens weep,
There stands an ancient oak,
Its branches bare, with secrets rare,
Of souls who felt death's stroke.
On moonlit nights, when fear ignites,
The Hangman's Tree awakes,
Its roots unearth, with mournful mirth,
As vengeance it partakes.
[Pipe Organ]
Beware, beware the full moon's glare,
When justice seeks its due,
The Hangman's Tree, no longer free,
Now hunts for me and you.
With creaking limbs and ghostly hymns,
It stalks the village streets,
For those who lied and those who tried,
To hang the innocent meek.
[Pipe Organ]
Its nooses swing, like puppet strings,
To snare the guilty few,
Who once decreed that others bleed,
Now face a judgment true.
The magistrate who sealed the fate,
Of many without cause,
Now feels the bite of bark so tight,
Ensnared by wooden claws.
The lying witness, filled with malice,
Who spoke with forked tongue,
Now dangles high against the sky,
Where once the innocent hung.
[Pipe Organ]
As dawn breaks clear, the tree stands near,
Its vengeance satisfied,
But heed this tale, lest you may wail,
When next the full moon rides.
For in this land, where shadows stand,
And justice comes by tree,
The Hangman's Oak will always stroke,
The cords of destiny.
[Pipe Organ]
Beware, beware the full moon's glare,
When justice seeks its due,
The Hangman's Tree, no longer free,
May come to judge anew.
[Pipe Organ]
[End]
The Hangman's Tree Video (MV)
The Singing Skull - The Hangman's Tree Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
English
The Hangman's Tree
By Bruce Alan Marcom
[Pipe Organ]
In shadows deep, where ravens weep,
There stands an ancient oak,
Its branches bare, with secrets rare,
Of souls who felt death's stroke.
On moonlit nights, when fear ignites,
The Hangman's Tree awakes,
Its roots unearth, with mournful mirth,
As vengeance it partakes.
[Pipe Organ]
Beware, beware the full moon's glare,
When justice seeks its due,
The Hangman's Tree, no longer free,
Now hunts for me and you.
With creaking limbs and ghostly hymns,
It stalks the village streets,
For those who lied and those who tried,
To hang the innocent meek.
[Pipe Organ]
Its nooses swing, like puppet strings,
To snare the guilty few,
Who once decreed that others bleed,
Now face a judgment true.
The magistrate who sealed the fate,
Of many without cause,
Now feels the bite of bark so tight,
Ensnared by wooden claws.
The lying witness, filled with malice,
Who spoke with forked tongue,
Now dangles high against the sky,
Where once the innocent hung.
[Pipe Organ]
As dawn breaks clear, the tree stands near,
Its vengeance satisfied,
But heed this tale, lest you may wail,
When next the full moon rides.
For in this land, where shadows stand,
And justice comes by tree,
The Hangman's Oak will always stroke,
The cords of destiny.
[Pipe Organ]
Beware, beware the full moon's glare,
When justice seeks its due,
The Hangman's Tree, no longer free,
May come to judge anew.
[Pipe Organ]
[End]
By Bruce Alan Marcom
[Pipe Organ]
In shadows deep, where ravens weep,
There stands an ancient oak,
Its branches bare, with secrets rare,
Of souls who felt death's stroke.
On moonlit nights, when fear ignites,
The Hangman's Tree awakes,
Its roots unearth, with mournful mirth,
As vengeance it partakes.
[Pipe Organ]
Beware, beware the full moon's glare,
When justice seeks its due,
The Hangman's Tree, no longer free,
Now hunts for me and you.
With creaking limbs and ghostly hymns,
It stalks the village streets,
For those who lied and those who tried,
To hang the innocent meek.
[Pipe Organ]
Its nooses swing, like puppet strings,
To snare the guilty few,
Who once decreed that others bleed,
Now face a judgment true.
The magistrate who sealed the fate,
Of many without cause,
Now feels the bite of bark so tight,
Ensnared by wooden claws.
The lying witness, filled with malice,
Who spoke with forked tongue,
Now dangles high against the sky,
Where once the innocent hung.
[Pipe Organ]
As dawn breaks clear, the tree stands near,
Its vengeance satisfied,
But heed this tale, lest you may wail,
When next the full moon rides.
For in this land, where shadows stand,
And justice comes by tree,
The Hangman's Oak will always stroke,
The cords of destiny.
[Pipe Organ]
Beware, beware the full moon's glare,
When justice seeks its due,
The Hangman's Tree, no longer free,
May come to judge anew.
[Pipe Organ]
[End]
Writer: Bruce Alan Marcom
Copyright: Lyrics © Too Lost LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Too Lost LLC