So there I was, death row; biding my time and biting my nails. Any minute now this whole damn scheme ends; the ride is over; the lights are off; the thrill is gone. My crime? Murder, in the first degree. Death was at my door, waiting, "there's a key under the mat!" I call out. I don't know why I do it, I don't know why I take this racket. Maybe I bargained with the devil too long, maybe somewhere in the thick of it I lost all respect for myself - because I know it! Lord, I know it! It's all hogwash; pure baloney. I'm no killer, I'm no crook, no thief, no fiend, no dirty rotten son-of-a-gun - my only true crime was lying! Lying about being on death row, guilty of murder.