Music: Frank Wildhorn/Don Black
Clyde:
I can't take no more of this
This nightmare has to end
In this godforsaken place
Death would be a welcome friend
I could pay a crooked guard to kill me
Yeah, that's it
Better that than sixteen years
Dyin' slowly bit by bit
All I did was rob a few stores
Justice here don't fit the crime
I've been broken by the devil
Justice here is a waste of time
I won't get to Heaven
Why not raise a little hell
Guard:
Hey, Clyde
Your other girlfriend is here
Bonnie:
Oh my god
What happened to your face?
Somebody help him!
Clyde:
The gas station
There's a gun hidden under the porch
Guard:
What seems to be the problem?
Bonnie:
Look at him!
Guard:
Visitin' time is over
I'll be back to get you later
Ed Crowder wants to see you again
Clyde:
He'll see me but it's the last time
That filthy scum has gotta go
By tonight it will be over
When I strike the fatal blow
No way out I gotta do this
Him or me
Okay let's play
Never killed
But now I have to
Time to make Ed Crowder pay
I won't get to Heaven
Why not raise a little hell
No way I'll see Heaven
So let's raise a little hell
Cumie:
Here are some things for Clyde
There's a pair of shoes and a bible
Bonnie:
Thanks
Cumie:
I don't know what he'd do without you
You're the one ray of sunshine in his whole life