Crooked man with a crooked nose Crooked neck and a funeral rose Wretched, righteous, a life withdrawn I'm marching on My praying hands, they've been stained with blood A broken man, baptized in the mud My former self has all but dead and gone I'm marching on Good riddance to you, you're in the clear You've watched me dying, never shed no tear I used to be a man till lines were drawn I'm marching on I tried to pray, but I lost the words Voice trailed off like a flock of birds I took my sins to the river bank Cast them out, and they finally sank I gave you everything till everything was gone I'm marching on