I don’t even know whats worse.. just to think it or to do it
With my head on the stone guillotine, an my mind in ruins..
Only time has chosen.. the path of righteousness in life
Facin my own moral mistakes fightin this just isn’t right..
I see two white lights, but neither one leads to heaven
So Im stressin beneath the streets that breed this weapon..
The son of satan I am not, Im gods worst creation on earth
With physical attributes that have disguised me from birth..
Yet.. its impossible to run from my past, a retired killer
Sitting behind the cold of steel, constantly growing iller..
Memories are torture enough, with out the consolidation
Of my whole life in this dark penitentiary, always waitin..
Thinking in darkness frequently, to never be let out
So dim in my complex, I cant even have a shadow of doubt..
Dwelling on my own faults.. of course mistakes happen
Its those purposeful ones, that end up placed in plastic..
Erased from the face of some kid staged at the accident
A body slayed an accident? Perhaps before I put an ax in it..
The cell block I reside in.. my home away from home
My final resting place… the outside world calls death row..
