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Three Men Hanging

Get on with it, put off the fuss you chicken shit

Get on with it, can't you see it's time to quit

I seen three men hangin' from a sycamore

Their bodies were stiff as a two by four

And their heads were tilted down towards the ground

And it ain't been long since they been up there

That their bodies turned cold hangin' in that air

And they might have froze before that news got to them

Get on with it, put off the fuss you chicken shit

Get on with it, can't you see it's time to quit

Old scratch has dealt us a dirty hand

He had the look of a saint but the greed of the man

And his face was worn and wrinkled like a leather book

And if I put this revolver to my head

Will God turn against me instead

Of taking pity on a broken man?

Get on with it, get on with it

Get on with it, get on with it

Enjoy the lyrics !!!