Oh, the age of the inmates
|
I remember quite freely:
|
No younger than twelve,
|
No older 'n seventeen.
|
Thrown in like bandits
|
And cast off like criminals,
|
Inside the walls,
|
The walls of Red Wing.
|
|
From the dirty old mess hall
|
You march to the brick wall,
|
Too weary to talk
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And too tired to sing.
|
Oh, it's all afternoon
|
You remember your home town,
|
Inside the walls,
|
The walls of Red Wing.
|
|
Oh, the gates are cast iron
|
And the walls are barbed wire.
|
Stay far from the fence
|
With the 'lectricity sting.
|
And it's keep down your head
|
And stay in your number,
|
Inside the walls,
|
The walls of Red Wing.
|
|
Oh, it's fare thee well
|
To the deep hollow dungeon,
|
Farewell to the boardwalk
|
That takes you to the screen.
|
And farewell to the minutes
|
They threaten you with it,
|
Inside the walls,
|
The walls of Red Wing.
|
|
-----------------
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The Walls Of Redwing
|
Joan Baez |