|
My name is billy austin |
|
I'm twenty-nine years old |
|
I was born in oklahoma |
|
Quarter cherokee i'm told |
|
Don't remember oklahoma |
|
Been so long since i left home |
|
Seems like i've always been in prison |
|
Like i've always been alone |
|
Didn't mean to hurt nobody |
|
Never thought i'd cross that line |
|
I held up a filling station |
|
Like i'd done a hundred times |
|
The kid done like i told him |
|
He lay face down on the floor |
|
Guess i'll never know what made me |
|
Turn and walk back through that door |
|
The shot rang out like thunder |
|
My ears rang like a bell |
|
No one came runnin' |
|
So i called the cops myself |
|
Took their time to get there |
|
And i guess i could'a run |
|
I knew i should be feeling something |
|
But i never shed tear one |
|
I didn't even make the papers |
|
'cause i only killed one man |
|
But my trial was over quickly |
|
And then the long hard wait began |
|
Court appointed lawyer |
|
Couldn't look me in the eye |
|
He just stood up and closed his briefcase |
|
When they sentenced me to die |
|
Now my waitin's over |
|
As the final hour drags by |
|
I ain't about to tell you |
|
That i don't deserve to die |
|
But there's twenty-seven men here |
|
Mostly black, brown and poor |
|
Most of em are guilty |
|
Who are you to say for sure? |
|
So when the preacher comes to get me |
|
And they shave off all my hair |
|
Could you take that long walk with me |
|
Knowing hell is waitin' there |
|
Could you pull that switch yourself sir |
|
With a sure and steady hand |
|
Could you still tell youself |
|
That you're better than i am |
|
My name is billy austin |
|
I'm twenty-nine years old |
|
I was born in oklahoma |
|
Quarter cherokee i'm told |