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Lyrics
Sitting here in my cell writing a letter Thanking all the people who made my living conditions better And thanks to the justice system I'm making a million My lawyer got me a book deal Now I'm making a killing just from making a killing I got an agent for the publicity An accountant to count my royalties The talk shows want me, sorry I can't go I'm stuck here on death row You call me Hannibal Lechter, if I was smarter If I was Charlie Manson you'd make me a martyr wouldn't ya You'd call me a handsome man if I was Bundy But if I looked like John Wayne Gasey you'd just say I'm funny, not ha ha funny Tried to act my career just flopped Killed my neighbor, got on Cops Problem is, I only made one show now I'm stuck here on death row The poor victim's families never make a dime Networks say I'm not prime time All my cell mates on my cell block Say I'm the hottest topic at the coffee shops Waitress cries, "God how they should free me" Send me her love letters, says someday she'd really love to meet me Tells her customers people should forgive me for the things I do I wonder if I kill her would her family forgive me too? Thanks for the attention and the publicity The taxpayer's dollars that you spend on me Thanks for the good meal, dry bed, and these warm clothes I'm alive and well on death row
More songs from Bret Michaels
Song Info
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Vocals
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