My Last Word

Three days from the chair in Huntsville Got a pen and a pad and a name Warden's boy says son, would you like a steak — I said warden, you can keep the chain

There's a man on six who weeps at night Cries for his mama, cries for his god I been writin' to the world for thirty-eight months Through the bars and the blood and the rod

These four walls won't hear my last word But the world's gonna read it in fire I ain't got mama, I ain't got God left — I got a pen and a hangin' wire A pen and a hangin' wire

Tell the boy I never met him Tell his mama I tried Tell the prosecutor he's the reason Hell's got a window open wide

Wrote my name on the underside of the table Right next to nineteen ghosts Carved it deep, carved it ugly — Carved it where the next man knows Carved it where the next man knows

I have lived a life that nobody owed And I owe nobody back Don't you dare say a prayer for me When they slip the black hood on When they slip the black hood on

These four walls won't hear my last word But the world's gonna read it in fire Bury me with the pen, bury me with the page — And let my last word burn the wire Let my last word burn the wire

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