The Man Comes Around (Early Take) Johnny Cash
"The Man Comes Around (Early Take)" by Johnny Cash, released in 2002, is a #Country song that explores themes of judgment, redemption, and the inevitability of mortality. The lyrics reflect on biblical imagery and the end of times, emphasizing personal introspection. Its stripped-down arrangement showcases Cash's haunting vocals, enhancing its emotional depth. The song has resonated culturally, symbolizing Cash's legacy as a voice of truth and moral reflection.
There's a man going around taking names
And he decides who to free and who to blame
Everybody won't be treated all the same
There will be a golden ladder reaching down
When the man comes around
The hairs on your arm will stand up
At the terror in each sip and in each sup
Will you partake of that last offered cup?
Or disappear into the potter's ground?
When the man comes around
Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices calling and voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
It's Alpha and Omega's kingdom come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks
'Til Armageddon, no salam, no shalom
Then the father hen will call his chickens home
The wise man will bow down before the throne
And at his feet, they'll cast the golden crowns
When the man comes around
And he decides who to free and who to blame
Everybody won't be treated all the same
There will be a golden ladder reaching down
When the man comes around
The hairs on your arm will stand up
At the terror in each sip and in each sup
Will you partake of that last offered cup?
Or disappear into the potter's ground?
When the man comes around
Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices calling and voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
It's Alpha and Omega's kingdom come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks
'Til Armageddon, no salam, no shalom
Then the father hen will call his chickens home
The wise man will bow down before the throne
And at his feet, they'll cast the golden crowns
When the man comes around
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