Born Under a Bad Sign

Mother don’t cry for me I done chose the life I lead. Lined with trouble, doubts and pain. Marked for death with life’s cold stain. They caught me driven down highway one, Thrown in jail, my freedom done. I killed a man to watch him die, I couldn’t tell the sheriff why. I did my time and paid my debts, I smelled like booze and cigarettes. I could never quench the hate, not much food upon my plate. My conscience was muddled with guilt and shame, clothed in sorrow, bathed in blame. If I added up the cost, it wasn’t worth the time I lost. I was void of love and pride, I could not fill the hole inside. If you see me coming you best step away, I might take your life to start my day. Under the sign of which I was born, stuck in my side like a jagged thorn. As I come to my end, my journey through I’ve nothing more to say to you.