The trial

You're all looking at me like I did something wrong

As if I had looked at a woman other than my own

Should be ashamed of yourselves

Should be ashamed of yourselves

You want me to fall on my knees on that floor

And cry and implore your mercy just because I'm poor

We had a small shack on the hill

I spent my days ploughing my field

The kids were young, the wife was ill

Until the night my fate was sealed