Waiting to die, waiting to die.
The lonely horror of this concrete hell.
Eating my last supper,
I recall the lives I've swallowed.
Priests and guards now at my room,
cold and heartless stares.
My throat is dry, my heart pounds, struck with
terror- cold sweat runs!
Sitting in my death throne, arms and legs strapped tight.
Electric crown, my sure demise,
adorns my shaven head.
The switch is thrown, a power surge, the lights begin to dim.
My bowels give way, my brain implodes,
my blood starts to boil.
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