Youngstown

It was two summers ago when

Bobby came to Youngstown

And I believe he was only 25 years old

But he longed for the right to speak his mind

So he left those big city lights behind

All he wanted was land to let his life unfold

So he sang . . .

Good Lord, pull me under

Sweet Jesus, lay me down

All I want is a life

Can it be in Youngstown?

Now the autumn was near, and leaves fell all around him

So he'd harvest the land and reap all of its yield

With a smile on his face, he looked out on his country

For he knew not what lay right on the edge of his field

The body of a young boy was found on Bobby's land

The townspeople only saw it must have came from Bobby's hand

He said "This can't happen to me, I've done nothing wrong!"

And as they carried him away, he still sang his song

Sunday afternoon they hung Bobby in the rain

There was no jury, there was no trial

Then a man in Wood County confessed to the crime

It wasn't Bobby all the while

Well the reason I tell you my story

While my thoughts aren't far away

Because I was a man who judged another man

And I was the man who tied the rope

On that day