There's a man goin' 'round takin' 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. The hairs on your arm will stand up at the terror in each sip and in each sup. Will you partake of that last offered cup or disappear into the potter's ground? When the man comes around.
