Other Exercises
When The Man Comes Around 
Medium
by Johnny Cash
Fill In the blanks, then press Score to check your answers
There's a man going around names
And he decides who to free and who to blame
Everybody won't be all the same
There'll be a ladder reaching down
When the Man comes around
The hairs on arm up
At the terror in each sip and in sup
you of that offered cup?
Or disappear into the potter's ground
When the Man comes around
the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
are marching to the big kettledrum
calling, voices crying
are born and some are dying
It's Alpha and Omega's kingdom come
And the is in the thorn tree
The virgins are all trimming wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree
It's for thee to kick the pricks
Till Armageddon no shalam, no shalom
Then the father hen will call his chickens home
The wise man will bow the thrown
And at His they'll their golden crowns
When the Man around
Whoever is let him be unjust still
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still
is filthy let him be filthy still
to the words written down
When the Man comes around
Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million singing
Multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices and crying
are born and are dying
It's and Omega's come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree
The are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree
It's hard for to kick against the pricks
In measured weight and penny pound
When the Man comes around
...
And he decides who to free and who to blame
Everybody won't be all the same
There'll be a ladder reaching down
When the Man comes around
The hairs on arm up
At the terror in each sip and in sup
you of that offered cup?
Or disappear into the potter's ground
When the Man comes around
the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
are marching to the big kettledrum
calling, voices crying
are born and some are dying
It's Alpha and Omega's kingdom come
And the is in the thorn tree
The virgins are all trimming wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree
It's for thee to kick the pricks
Till Armageddon no shalam, no shalom
Then the father hen will call his chickens home
The wise man will bow the thrown
And at His they'll their golden crowns
When the Man around
Whoever is let him be unjust still
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still
is filthy let him be filthy still
to the words written down
When the Man comes around
Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million singing
Multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices and crying
are born and are dying
It's and Omega's come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree
The are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree
It's hard for to kick against the pricks
In measured weight and penny pound
When the Man comes around
...
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( Automatic Translation )
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