They tell me that I should go find Jesus, open up confess all of my sins. But I don't even know that sorry bastard, so why should I say anything to him. Tired of their endless lie, some day I'll hang 'em high. A proper way for them to die, some day I'll hang 'em high. They pray for that poor old unbeliever, hope he will wake up and see the light. But I don't have no time for all those losers, my lord will always be the darkest night. Laughing at their meanings, spitting on their graves, soon no one will be singing Jesus saves. Tired of their endless lie, today I'll hang 'em high. A proper way for them to die, today I'll hang 'em high.