Info
I love this song. Meat himself wrote it, and it reeks of hardcore rock and roll--yet with the same visual imagery of any Steinman song. As mentioned on the Blind Before I Stop page, I think that album should have had this song's name.

There is a slightly annoying cross-fade from this track into the second one; see Blind Before I Stop for details.

Lyrics
I stare in the mirror, my eyes refuse to blink
Sympathy for me, hell I can't even think
Send for the iceman, my temperature is startin' to rise
I've heard it before 'n I know the truth from the lies

Is it any wonder heaven's racked with thunder
And all of my dreams go under like the fallin' rain

Execution day, execution day (execution day, execution day) - execution day
Execution day

Voices like locusts keep smothering me
Twisting and turning my senses like a cyclone at sea
Don't touch me now, won't let you crucify me
You ain't no damn jury, you can't pass no sentence on me

Is it any wonder heaven's racked with thunder
And all of my dreams go under like the pourin' rain

Execution day, execution day, execution day

Whose blood on whose hands, where's the promises they preached for this land
Standin' there with bibles clutched in their hand
Whose blood on whose hands, whose blood on whose hands
(Whose blood, whose hands)

Execution day, execution day

Father my hands are shakin', I see the light, it's breakin'
Show me the way to set my soul free, I hope it rains on me
Let it rain on me

Execution day, execution day