An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge, Pt. 1

That old Turpentine Trail
Runs along the southern ridge
Passing by the piney wood
And swings down to Owl Creek Bridge

Where stood a man
Whose hands were bound
Around his neck, a tether
The water below, he prayed
Would forgive those
Who fell from Owl Creek Bridge

Onto piney wood he cast his sight
Longed to walk beyond it
Escaping it seemed
All but a dream he thought

For on the northern shore
A thousand troops
With rifles towards the sunrise
The sergeant marked the end
Lieutenants took his ground
He dropped from Owl Creek Bridge

As he fell through the bridge
He was swept into a dream
A thousand statues stood
Whose eyes were fixed
Upon the man with hands bound
Who fell from Owl Creek Bridge

Oh, great fire wrapped around his throat
Choking him as the rope it took hold
He was taken by pain
Taking every inch
As he hung from Owl Creek Bridge

All at once, the rope gave in
And to the depths he was taken
Hope in his mind
Spared from being hanged
But to be drowned
Was too much to take in

Break those bounds man
That bind your wrists
But mind a thousand rifles
Cause they're waiting on the surface
And set your sights
On that Southern Ridge
Far from Owl Creek Bridge