There's a candle in the window
of the third cell on the right.
It illuminates the cold, hard walls
with a soft and golden light.
The man in this cell knows he'll hang
when day overtakes the night.
The candle knows he's innocent
as do the walls and chains.
The morning will come, all too soon
and take away the pain.
But no matter how they plead with him,
the rope still calls his name.
