Hang 'em High - Van Halen

Somewhere, he lost it in a turn
Now trouble seems to fit him like a glove
First come, first served, he's serving it back
He travels light, without a pack, without love

He comes from nowhere an' he turns on his own
Late for the hanging, yes he's headed for the moon
An' hang 'em high

Leather 'cross his thighs
Blasting out the night, his cap hides his eyes
One eye on the road, price upon his head
One ear to the ground, he's listening to the dead

He comes from nowhere an' he turns on his own
Late for the hanging, yes he's headed for the moon
An' hang 'em high

Blind to himself, an' he's laughing up his scheme
Looking back in anger, the city is relieved
Vision of light, child of the night passing by

(Solo Guitarra)

Blind to himself, he's laughing up his scheme
Looking back in anger, the city is relieved
A vision of light, child of the night passing by

Leather 'cross his thigh
Blasting out the night, his cap hides his eyes
One eye on the road, price upon his head
One ear to the ground, he's listening to the dead

He comes from nowhere, an' he turns on his own
Late for the hanging, yes he's headed for the moon
An' hang 'em high

Quelque part, il l'a perdu à son tour
Maintenant, les ennuis semblent lui convenir comme un gant
Premier arrivé, premier servi, il le sert en retour
Il voyage léger, sans sac, sans amour

Il vient de nulle part et il se tourne tout seul
Tard pour la pendaison, oui il se dirige vers la lune
Un 'coup' haut

Cuir croise ses cuisses
Soufflant la nuit, sa casquette cache ses yeux
Un ?il sur la route, prix sur sa tête
Une oreille au sol, il écoute les morts

Il vient de nulle part et il se tourne tout seul
Tard pour la pendaison, oui il se dirige vers la lune
Un 'coup' haut

Aveugle pour lui-même, et il rit de son plan
Rétrospectivement, la ville est soulagée
Vision de la lumière, enfant de la nuit qui passe

(Solo Guitarra)

Aveugle pour lui-même, il rit de son plan
Rétrospectivement, la ville est soulagée
Une vision de la lumière, enfant de la nuit qui passe

Cuir croise sa cuisse
Soufflant la nuit, sa casquette cache ses yeux
Un ?il sur la route, prix sur sa tête
Une oreille au sol, il écoute les morts

Il vient de nulle part, et il se tourne tout seul
Tard pour la pendaison, oui il se dirige vers la lune
Un 'coup' haut