Oct.1st the day is the day
The day where I go some place so far away
I start in C.R., then move to the Chi,
Then to New York the place where you die
I gotta stay outta sight and outta mind
I hope that I die
I hope that I suffer
I hope I get buried six feet under
I hope I get out to clear my mind
Then come back and do the time
As a good friend of mine use to say
'Run now and do time later'
As she use to state 'I don't need treatment this is not a debate.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem