DEATH ROW NIGHTMARE

My God! My God!
Why could I not see,
how foolish, foolish
my act would be?

Yet still I killed.

Sitting in this dreary cell
mind runs in and out of Hell.
I can not think, I can not cry,
for I know I'm going to die.

All night long I've sat and stared
at these walls so stark and still.
Sitting dreamless in a dream;
a dream so dark would surely fill
the heart of any man with fear.
Fear of God, fear of Hell,
fear of loss of life and love;
of life and love I thought were naught.

Then, the sounding of the bell.

When hearing this my one last knell
my mind runs in and out of Hell.
I can not think, I can not cry,
for I know I'm going to die.

The preacher comes and says some words.
I listen not 'cause how in hell can words
but save my life and love.
Instead I curse myself, I curse my brain,
I curse my body, I curse the very God
who made me so.
I stand and pace and sweat and fear.
I pant, I cough, I writhe, I hear
the death steps of the guards.

They are coming.

The clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp hits me like a spell.
My mind runs in and out of Hell.
I can not think, I can not cry,
for I know I'm going to die.

Clomp!  Clomp!  Clomp!  Clomp!
The steps like blasts echoing through my brain.
Clomp!  Clomp!  Clomp!  Clomp!
I freeze dead cold, I try to think,
I look for an out and then I sink -
to the floor so cold and bare.

The cage they open
three tall men in gray.
So calm, so cold, they stand and stare
but not one word do they dare say.

No! No! I say.
They grab me by the arm.
No! No! I cry
They lead me to the hall.

In silence we walk down the dark dreary tunnel
to the dungeon of Hell.
I shake, I tremble,
my legs go weak, my mind so weary.
My heart is pounding fast and loud
as we step into the unholy shroud.

We are there.

Standing there in death's drab cell
my mind runs in and out of Hell.
I can not think, I can not cry,
for I know I'm going to die.

Forced to the chair I writhe and squirm,
my arms are bound, my legs are bound,
I sit and cry the blood of fear.
The door is closed. I look around -

The clock I hear.

Tick!  Tick!  Tick!  Tick!
The clock's my final knell.
Tick!  Tick!  Tick!  Tick!
It's racing on to Hell.
Tick!  Tick!
It's all I hear.
Tick!  Tick!
It's all I fear.
It's running, racing on to doom.
I curse the hand that moves so soon.

And then my ears explode
with that awful sound.
"Get up!  It's time to get ready for school."