I stand upon the wooden gallows
noose around my neck, soon dead.
I dove in deep; avoiding shallows,
and now I see I've made my bed.
Standing here do I regret,
the evil that I've said and done?
Only that which I've beget,
Standing there below; my son.
A highwayman, I robbed for him.
I murdered, stole and took with need.
And though my soul is stained with sin,
For him I did each evil deed.
And as they ask for final words,
I see his face, ashamed of me.
Though this may seem quite absurd,
it pleases me to see.