I hear the bells of freedom chimin',
And inside my heart I feel I'm dyin'.
Wise guys never compromise,
Then they loose their rights and they act surprised,
Jail really cuts ya down to size.

Let the punishment fit the crime,
The footprints on the sand of time.
The philosophy of the poet's rhyme,
Makes a man humble in his prime.

You can go up, down, or sideways,
Be on death row, counting the days.
They say the answers are blowin' in the wind,
And to take yourself out would really be a sin,
You just have to cope and start over again.

Let the punishment fit the crime,
The footprints on the sand of time.
The philosophy of the poet's rhyme,
Makes a man humble in his prime.

Little child cries in his sleep,
And life makes promises it can't keep.
And then feel you had, had enough,
You realize somehow, someway,
Your destiny was planned from the very first day.

Let the punishment fit the crime,
The footprints on the sand of time.
The philosophy of the poet's rhyme,
Makes a man humble in his prime.

Let the punishment fit the crime.

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