The bars cast black shadows,
A reminder of sin,
The man of the stripes,
With a faint evil grin,
His head was held high,
As he walked from his cell,
They'd put him to death,
And they'd send him to hell,
They walked down the line,
The holy and bad,
To make things right,
To take what he had,
He gazed straight ahead,
He knew this would end,
Fading to black,
He'd meet his true friend,
The final descent,
And the last to be seen,
The pride laden death,
Of number fifteen.
