Songs - The Street Preacher - James R. Hamilton

Goin' to Meet the Judge

Ya' goin down to the courthouse,
Fingers are all pointin at you;
Ya fight the law, y're runnin loose,
But the Man don't see it fr'm your point a view.
So settle now fore ya get ta court,
Whiles ya still here, on th' way;
Cause th' way you think man, jus' don't work,
When ya get t' th' turnstile y'll have t' pay.
So when the Man comes with what it takes,
Who's more'n willin' to pick up y' tab;
Don't fight or mess Him, man hit the brakes,
Or y'll find y'self takin' a serious rap.
He holds th' key t' death an hell,
He's Judge n' jury n' wields the axe;
When He opens 'is book ya won't look so swell,
He only deals, with matters n' facts.
Y's goin' down, y're goin to jail,
Y'll pay every penny, every dime th't ya owe;
So settle it now, outta court without fail,
He'll pick up y're tab, then y're free to go.