The death he fears, they will take their places.
They will smile, perhaps, they will maybe jest.
They will be dust then. Perhaps that’s best;
But even so, what good am I
To say to three other men, “You must die?”
Three doomed men in the death house pray
Forgiveness. And I, do I ever pray?
Three doomed men confess their sin
And die as they watch a day begin.
Jealousy—anger through drink—and they