Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the
story of the young man who had to sit back
and watch life rapidly pass by him.
He of course kept on, but his rotting cell
restricted him of holding his baby
and living a full and prosperous life.
He yearned too hard for his freedom,
by which it made his situation worse.
Tis nobody else's fault but his own.
He lost a free life by his own selfish ways.
Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the
Story of the young man who disregarded
his daughter's cries so he could silence his own.
Tell the tale for us of the years before,
sometime after his daughter’s first breathe,
her first smile, before his lost of interest.
He filled his own sorrow with those damn needles.
To which he sealed his fate to that cell.