I’m writing back to you with some regret
As I approach my worst day yet
I see the hand of fate above my head
As I plan the last breaking of my bread

The governator has applied his seal
Despite three years and five appeals
I got twenty four hours at most
An’ then so long baby, I’m toast

Yeah I know I done bad and that makes me sad
But Jesus spoke to me in my cell
Said he blessed whores, taxmen and sinners
An’ he forgives me as well

I’ve Coke, fries and burgers for my meal
‘Cos that’s the real American deal
Maybe it’s to saves Mom’s apple pie
That guys like me have gotta fry

As I take that last long walk
The Padre asks me if I wanna talk
I don’t know what peace that might bring
So I reply “C’mon lets do this thing”

It’s dark under this cotton hood
I hope it does someone good
The block lights flicker as I roast
And it’s so long baby I’m toast