LYRIC

A weary man with haunted eyes,
showed up at my door last night
He said he was a friend of mine,
his face had changed since he'd done his time.
I let him in for a little while,
After a drink he began to smile,
and laughed and said 'The world's his prison cell
Somewhere between Heaven and Hell
Somewhere between Heaven and Hell.

Waiting for the day to come

The wind howled and began to moan,
the lamp flickered and the house groaned.
The pressure changed, my hands grew cold
as I remembered the story the locals told
About a man who will visit you,
with haunted eyes to collect his due
He was a tax-collector like Matthew,
and if he comes he comes for you.
And if he comes he comes for you.

This is a holy place

I slowly tried to excuse myself
went for the keys on the back bookshelf
And when I went to turn around,
he was standing there holding my keys in his hand.
He said "You think you can get away?
Don't you know this is judgement day?"
And I said "I won't except that fate" and I had no time to hesitate
I had no time to hesitate

This is a holy place

And if he comes, he comes for you,
And if he comes, he comes for you
And if he comes, he comes for you

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