I got no place to go.
It seems I've been here for forty years
Waitin' on death row.
Will someone turn the heat up?
It's gettin' mighty cold.
The rain is soakin' through my clothes
My shoes are growin' mold.
Someone's gotta come get me
Out of this gray hell.
I've been waitin' for half the game
For just a bit of help.
I'll tell you where the flag is;
It's sittin' on a pipe
Above the little compost heap
Where there ain't much light.
« return.