It was the end of time.

Mountains crumbled into dust

And the droplets that once were heaving seas turned in upon themselves

And dried.

Earth was rolled up and cast aside like a threadbare carpet.

The sky lay in a corner, crumpled in a heap.

And out across a great white plain,

As far as the eye could scan,

Stood a shuffling crowd:

The people .....



Who does he fink he is anyway?

Judging us? He's got no right!

It's alright for 'im, stuck up in 'eaven;

He dunno what it's like!

If you ask me, he should 'ave to come down 'ere.

Yeah! Live like one of us!

Cope with the problems we've 'ad to face;

Then he'd see how hard it was!

Yeah? He'd prob'ly be a prince or summat, living in some palace;

Eating off o' dainty dishes, dabbing at his lips.

Let 'im get 'is 'ands mucky!

Take him round the slums!

Let him taste the dirt and filth!

Let him mix with scum!

He should be a refugee, kicked out from his land;

Moved on from shop doorways because no one understands.

Let him have to struggle!

Make him really poor!

Make him black!

Make him Jewish!

That's the very worst of all.

Pushed from one place to another in a country run by enemies.

Never getting anywhere because of the authorities;

Stopping all initiatives and hindering every move -

And if he starts to get somewhere, let him be misunderstood.

And when he has to face the mob then his friends could let him down.

When the time comes for the showdown leave him standing there alone.

Then let him die in agony

And let that death be slow.

Excruciating agony!

And no-one there he knows.

Not a soul to comfort him, then he'd know what's what!

What we've all had to go through ...

Some fat chance of that!

A flicker of a movement ...

All heads turned ...

There was a hush ...

And standing there with nail-holed hands

Was the one who was to judge!

And out across the great white plain,

As far as the eye could scan,

Every head was lowered

In the presence of ....

The Man.

There was silence.

Judgement began.

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