I can get by on beans and biscuits,
Maybe a lil' slice of apple pie on the side.
Gimme a sweet fat girl,
One Who ain't got ten baad-ass kids,
One or two, to holler at
And leave me the hella 'lone in my shack way out,
A satellite dish,
A Coltrane CD
And an old, beat up Mustang to get around in.
I been gone too damn long.
Kick me back, back to the streets,
Puh-leeze! Lemme make parole.
At my age, I don't need much.
I can get by on beans and biscuits.

The author, a death-row prisoner, has published books of poetry. The proceeds from their sale are applied to his legal defense. Inquire to: