Текст песни The Long Arm of Justice - Gino Vannelli
                                                It 
                                                was 
                                                    a 
                                                high 
                                                summer 
                                                night 
                                                along 
                                                the 
                                                Ouachita
 
                                    
                                
                                                Where 
                                                in 
                                                    a 
                                                town 
                                                named 
                                                Mammoth 
                                                Hill
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                boy 
                                                was 
                                                found 
                                                at 
                                                Times 
                                                Picayune 
                                                said
 
                                    
                                
                                                Left 
                                                headless 
                                                by 
                                                the 
                                                cotton 
                                                gin 
                                                mill
 
                                    
                                
                                                John 
                                                Law 
                                                was 
                                                slow 
                                                so 
                                                the 
                                                road 
                                                ran 
                                                free
 
                                    
                                
                                                From 
                                                the 
                                                swamps 
                                                of 
                                                Louisiana 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                hills 
                                                of 
                                                Tennessee
 
                                    
                                
                                                Then 
                                                on 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                Carolines 
                                                where 
                                                it 
                                                brought 
                                                hard 
                                                times
 
                                    
                                
                                                To 
                                                many 
                                                    a 
                                                family
 
                                    
                                
                                                One 
                                                Otis 
                                                Ray 
                                                Stone 
                                                weren't 
                                                nobody's 
                                                fool
 
                                    
                                
                                                He 
                                                had 
                                                the 
                                                look 
                                                of 
                                                    a 
                                                righteous 
                                                man
 
                                    
                                
                                                By 
                                                day 
                                                he 
                                                plied 
                                                his 
                                                trade 
                                                as 
                                                    a 
                                                teacher
 
                                    
                                
                                                While 
                                                by 
                                                night 
                                                getting 
                                                blood 
                                                on 
                                                his 
                                                hands
 
                                    
                                
                                                For 
                                                thirty 
                                                five 
                                                years 
                                                running 
                                                high 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                loose
 
                                    
                                
                                                Two 
                                                steps 
                                                ahead 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                hangman's 
                                                noose
 
                                    
                                
                                                Indeed, 
                                                it 
                                                seemed 
                                                Otis 
                                                Ray 
                                                Stone 
                                                would 
                                                never 
                                                atone
 
                                    
                                
                                                For 
                                                what 
                                                he 
                                                done 
                                                to 
                                                many 
                                                    a 
                                                poor 
                                                youth
 
                                    
                                
                                                Yet 
                                                the 
                                                long 
                                                arm 
                                                of 
                                                justice 
                                                reaches 
                                                far
 
                                    
                                
                                                From 
                                                the 
                                                banks 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                Ouachita 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                highest 
                                                star
 
                                    
                                
                                                Like 
                                                the 
                                                hour 
                                                hand 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                wall
 
                                    
                                
                                                Like 
                                                    a 
                                                snail 
                                                creeping 
                                                at 
                                                    a 
                                                dead 
                                                crawl
 
                                    
                                
                                                One 
                                                fine 
                                                day 
                                                in 
                                                some 
                                                mysterious 
                                                way
 
                                    
                                
                                                Justice 
                                                finds 
                                                us 
                                                all
 
                                    
                                
                                                It 
                                                finds 
                                                us 
                                                all
 
                                    
                                
                                                Many 
                                                years 
                                                hence 
                                                on 
                                                    a 
                                                Death 
                                                Valley 
                                                Road
 
                                    
                                
                                                While 
                                                jackin' 
                                                up 
                                                his 
                                                broke-down 
                                                car
 
                                    
                                
                                                Came 
                                                hell 
                                                on 
                                                wheels 
                                                that 
                                                left 
                                                Otis 
                                                Ray
 
                                    
                                
                                                Lying 
                                                flat 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                hot 
                                                burnin' 
                                                tar
 
                                    
                                
                                                For 
                                                three 
                                                long 
                                                days, 
                                                not 
                                                    a 
                                                drop 
                                                on 
                                                his 
                                                tongue
 
                                    
                                
                                                Suffering 
                                                every 
                                                crawler 
                                                'neath 
                                                the 
                                                desert 
                                                sun
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                old 
                                                Otis 
                                                Ray 
                                                screamed 
                                                while 
                                                    a 
                                                crow 
                                                picked 
                                                his 
                                                eyes 
                                                clean
 
                                    
                                
                                                Before 
                                                his 
                                                dying 
                                                was 
                                                done
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                long 
                                                arm 
                                                of 
                                                justice 
                                                reaches 
                                                far
 
                                    
                                
                                                From 
                                                the 
                                                banks 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                Ouachita 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                highest 
                                                star
 
                                    
                                
                                                Like 
                                                the 
                                                hour 
                                                hand 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                wall
 
                                    
                                
                                                Like 
                                                    a 
                                                snail 
                                                creeping 
                                                at 
                                                    a 
                                                dead 
                                                crawl
 
                                    
                                
                                                One 
                                                fine 
                                                day 
                                                in 
                                                some 
                                                mysterious 
                                                way
 
                                    
                                
                                                Justice 
                                                finds 
                                                us 
                                                all
 
                                    
                                
                                                Now, 
                                                the 
                                                mortal 
                                                remains 
                                                of 
                                                Otis 
                                                Ray 
                                                Stone
 
                                    
                                
                                                Were 
                                                never 
                                                made 
                                                manifest
 
                                    
                                
                                                'Cause 
                                                what 
                                                    a 
                                                crow 
                                                had 
                                                done 
                                                to 
                                                both 
                                                his 
                                                eyes
 
                                    
                                
                                                Ten 
                                                buzzards 
                                                did 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                rest
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                all 
                                                that 
                                                was, 
                                                was 
                                                    a 
                                                blot 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                land
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                heap 
                                                of 
                                                grey 
                                                dust 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                shape 
                                                of 
                                                    a 
                                                man
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                last 
                                                of 
                                                Otis 
                                                Ray 
                                                was 
                                                finally 
                                                swept 
                                                away
 
                                    
                                
                                                By 
                                                the 
                                                blowing 
                                                sand
 
                                    
                                
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