The Man Comes Around

Have you ever heard a song and, without knowing what it is, know you really like it? Then you can't find out what it is, so the song (or snippets of it) go round your head over and over?

That happened me yesterday afternoon. I was in Vital Records in Banbridge, and a song was playing. It was something about the end of the world, and contained quite a lot of Biblical references, to angels and the four beasts, and virgins trimming their wicks. I was going to ask the girl working in the shop what it was, but she was otherwise engaged.

So over the past day I've been trying to remember bits of the song to try and find out who sung it, or what CD I could find it on. I thought it might have been Bob Dylan, thinking I had heard the word hurricane... but that was just a blind alley.

So this evening, I suddenly remembered that I had heard the start of the next song on the CD, which was 'I hurt myself today.' Armed with this knowledge, it was back onto the internet, and behold, I have found the song! It's Johnny Cash, singing 'The Man Comes Around.'

Good old Youtube has supplied a video version - or rather, a sound version with a picture in the screen, which you can see and hear below. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do!


And here are the lyrics - will you be ready when the Man comes around?

And I heard as it were the noise of thunder
One of the four beasts saying come and see and I saw
And behold a white horse

There's a man going around taking names and he decides
Who to free and who to blame every body won't be treated
Quite 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 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 a big kettledrum
Voices calling and voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
Its alpha and omegas kingdom come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn trees
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn trees
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks
Till Armageddon no shalam no shalom

Then the father hen will call his chicken's home
The wise man will bow down before the thorn and at his feet
They will cast the golden crowns
When the man comes around

Whoever is unjust let him be unjust still
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still
Whoever is filthy let him be filthy still
Listen to the words long written down
When the man comes around

Hear the trumpets hear the pipers one hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to a big kettledrum
Voices calling and voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
Its alpha and omegas kingdom come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn trees
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn trees
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks
In measured hundred weight and penny pound
When the man comes around

And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts
And I looked and behold, a pale horse
And it's name it said on him was Death
And Hell followed with him.