I Did It

He’s lying in there

Out flat on his back.

Out flat on his back

And it’s all my fault,

Because I did it.

Under a coma

And his mind is black,

Yeah, his mind is black.

Doctors need a cure

To try and rid it.

I’m the one.

I’m the one

Who struck the blow

That cut him low.

I’m the one.

I’m the one

Who stomped him down

Into the ground.

It’s pushin’ on toward day.

Right on through evening,

And where is ol’ Frank March?

He’s lying in there bleeding.

If he should die

Then I should too.

For what I did to you

With my open fat mouth.

Yes. I did it.

I did it.

I did it.

Build a high steeple

That reaches the heights.

For all the people

To see and delight

In remembrance of

A man who all scorn –

The famous musician,

George Frederick Hilborn,

Who did it.

Will this be the end

Of George’s best friend?

Will Sally be good

And safe with this hood?

Tomorrow brings cries

To Jeanne’s hoping eyes?

Tune into the tale

Of the fool for scorn.

Put me in a cell

Where I won’t be mourned.

I’ve done it.

I’ve done it to Frank.

From the start,

From the start it stank.

I did it!

Illustration: Photo source unknown