eric bibb
death row blues
You might be a rich man, living high upon the hill, coming down to China town, just for a thrill. I might be a prisoner, waitin' on death row. No matter who you are, when your time has come, you gotta go. Feeling mighty lonesome, here behind these bars. Countin' of the days, countin' my scars. I can't tell the future, but this I know: When my countin' days are over, I got to go. When you came to the world, they gave yourself a spoon. I was born in a shotgun shed, on the last day of June. I'm about to leave this world, my friend, without much to show. But I'm so glad I got to sing my song, before I go.