Christmas In Prison - John Prine
It was Christmas in prison and the food was real good We has turkey and pistols carved out of wood I dream of her always even when I don't dream Her name's on my tongue and her blood's in my strings Wait a while eternity Old Mother Nature's got nothin' on me Come to me, run to me, come to me now I'm rollin' my sweetheart I'm flowin' by God She reminds me of a chess game with someone I admire Or a picnic in the rain after a prairie fire Her heart is as big as this whole goddamn jail And she's sweeter than saccharine at a drug store sale Wait a while eternity Old Mother Nature's got nothin' on me Come to me, run to me, come to me now I'm rollin' my sweetheart I'm flowin' by God The search light in the big yard turns 'round with the gun And spotlights the snowflakes like the dust in the sun It's Christmas in prison there'll be music tonight I'll probably get homesick, I love you, Good night Wait a while eternity Old Mother Nature's got nothin' on me Come to me, run to me, come to me now I'm rollin' my sweetheart I'm flowin' by God
Artist: John Prine
Title: Christmas In Prison