Hangman's Cart

Gloomy air grows heavy as the Hangman's cart approaches,
Taking those who have wronged their king;
Quickly death encroaches.
The nightly fog is thicker now,
Repent, sinner he comes!
Coming, coming, seeking you,
Hear the Hangman's drums.
Death is in the air as he draws ever near,
Wary are they on nightly watches,
Innocence taken by fear.

Groaning wheels are creaking as the Hangman's cart approaches,
He tells you if you have wronged your king,
Like a hunter, you, he poaches.
Quickly now, take heed oh stranger,
Be not caught off guard, he comes!
Drawing, coming, finding you,
Among your princely sums.
Death is in the air, your own sin brings him near,
He grabs you and takes you in his cart,
A heart beats with terror sheer.