he lays awake
with his eyes closed
as he thinks of eternity
the last meal served on silver plates
left a taste of cold steel
his memories haunt him
though what's past
is so far away
he's drowning in fear of death
but does anyone give a damn
first light of the morning
will witness his fall
at the end of a rope he'll hang
feeding the crows
as he walks to the gallow's pole
the priest reads his last rites
twelve feet to the ground
there's just six more to go
first light of the morning
will witness his fall
at the end of a rope he'll hang
feeding the crows