Otros Ejercicios
When The Man Comes Around 
Medium
de Johnny Cash
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There's a man names
And he decides who to free and who to blame
Everybody won't be all the same
There'll be a golden ladder reaching down
When the Man comes around
The hairs on arm will stand up
At the terror in each sip and in each sup
you partake of that last offered cup?
Or disappear into the potter's ground
the Man comes around
the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices calling, voices crying
Some are born and are dying
It's and Omega's kingdom come
And the is in the thorn tree
The virgins are all their wicks
The is in the tree
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks
Till Armageddon no shalam, no shalom
Then the father hen will call his chickens home
The man bow down the thrown
And at His feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the Man comes around
Whoever is let him be unjust still
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still
Whoever is filthy let him be still
to the words long written down
the Man around
Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices calling and voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
It's and Omega's kingdom come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The is in the thorn tree
It's hard for thee to against the pricks
In measured hundred weight and penny pound
When the Man comes around
...
And he decides who to free and who to blame
Everybody won't be all the same
There'll be a golden ladder reaching down
When the Man comes around
The hairs on arm will stand up
At the terror in each sip and in each sup
you partake of that last offered cup?
Or disappear into the potter's ground
the Man comes around
the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices calling, voices crying
Some are born and are dying
It's and Omega's kingdom come
And the is in the thorn tree
The virgins are all their wicks
The is in the tree
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks
Till Armageddon no shalam, no shalom
Then the father hen will call his chickens home
The man bow down the thrown
And at His feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the Man comes around
Whoever is let him be unjust still
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still
Whoever is filthy let him be still
to the words long written down
the Man around
Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices calling and voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
It's and Omega's kingdom come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The is in the thorn tree
It's hard for thee to against the pricks
In measured hundred weight and penny pound
When the Man comes around
...
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