Jailbirds In The Bighouse

John Gorka

They built a prison by the freeway

Just to rub it in

It's a gentle reminder

Of the wages of sin

The ones on the inside

Are being paid their share

There's a hundred stories

For every man in there

There's marks on the cell wall

There's marks on the mem

One counts off the time lost

The other counts till the end


Jailbirds in the bighouse

Jailbirds in the sky

Singing of their innocence

They'll sing by and by

Jailbirds in the bighouse

Jailbirds on a spree

Some of them coulda looked like you

Some of them used to look like me

Teddy was a bad kid

From a bad family tree

He was voted most likely

To commit a felony

And that was just in grade school

After that he disappeared

They say he moved or he dropped out

And he's faded with the years

A red hand in the cookie jar

A foot in potter's field

His face was waiting for a number

His fate was aching to be sealed


Teddy had a girlfriend

Who gave him a place to stay

But he left with her TV set

And a baby on the way

And if you should run across him

He could shorten your life

With the butt of a pistol

Or the edge of a knife

He'll sing a song of the rockpile

Mourning all he had

All the luck in all the world

And most of it was bad

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