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.
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