Sass O’Flynn grew up in the Wicklow mountains on a farm, racing horses and out in nature. Life growing up wasn’t easy. The educational system did not lend its self to supporting artistic nature or dyslexia. Sass finally found a place to excel. School of Arts in England. She studied Theatre, English and History. Sass headed to the US for a few years. She came to Galway for a weekend, played a role in the Town Hall Theatre. Got married. Now divorced with two wonderful children! When she is not working, Sass is a Musician Singer Songwriter and Poet. What Joy!


Waiting for that final call,
Before I go to die.
I did bad things to another man, I cannot tell you why.
Should I live with what I’ve done, be released by death?
People chant outside these walls, question if I’ve wept.
Death Row, Death Row.
I have a boy, a little girl,
I think I love them much.
I feel no pain for what I’ve done, a feeling, I cannot touch.
Death Row, Death Row.
I should live with what I have done; I Lied for every reason.
Maybe as the years fall in, my heart will change by season.
Behind these walls, as the years fall in, is where I ought to be.
Crystal clear, the back of my mind, I harness what I see.
Death Row, Death Row.
I do not get, nor understand how death will pay my price.
I need to live. Learn to regret; I’m serving this life thrice.
Death is freedom, I do not deserve. You take my life in killing.
I have my right to stay alive, all be it void or willing.
I’ll Stay behind these big high walls. Stay with what I done.
My hair turns grey, my bodies, sick, remembering the sound of that gun.
Death Row, Death Row,.
Death Row is not a place a name, it’s where we all end up.
Some of us are first in line, because we fucked it up.
To kill me now is my release,
My death won’t ease your pain.
My life or death won’t make amends or bring them back again.
My death; won’t pay a death. Nor will it let you be.
I stand behind these walls for life, until I eventually see.
Inject me with your devil juice, perhaps you’ll set me free!
Death Row, Death Row.


Art is a form I cannot always see,
It’s a glance or a moment that’s fleeting, temporary.
It can take hold of me softly, or it can grip me tight,
It can capture my mind and body as I take flight.
It’s a feeling, an urge that may have no description.
It can make my stomach churn like its having a conniption.
Art is a form that should never be measured.
I can take it or leave it, or even feel pleasured.
Art is an expression of the Artists Soul,
Whether it’s done out of love, or a calculated goal.

The feeling it leaves of whether or which,
If it’s dancing or braiding or a tedious stitch.
A moonlight Sonata, or deep rock ‘n Roll.
A painting in blood that exposes the soul.
A figure or sculpture, a garden of colour.
An expression of love expressed by no other.
Measure it not, for it cannot be measured.
It’s a glance a moment, exalted, pleasured.
Embrace it and love it, then leave it all go,
Leave judgment for those, who won’t ever know.