(in the style of aimee mann)

what a prisoner feels
it ain't wanderlust
no matter what the trial reveals
it's the chair, or bust,

whenever the right time was
to finally come clean
it wasn't worth the fuss
and without the means,

to lead the witness
or doctor the scene
they see a recidivist 
low down and mean,

in the game of crime,

you eked one win

(who's keeping score?)

called in the chaplain

to absolve your sin

(walk through the door)

we marked the time

when the lights went dim

(what was it for?)