Through rusted, solid iron bars
I stare into the foreign sky
and wonder if there's life on Mars.
The nips have sentenced me to die.
So many stars, a stuffy moon,
the plaintiff sermon of a toad,
I shall be resting all too soon
and dream about the other road
the one so straight and free and clear
but also without riches,
I was not deaf yet did not hear
nor see the scum-filled ditches.
The jury found me guilty, thus
they called for retribution,
the witnesses expect no fuss,
Gof bless electrocution.
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