| It was Christmas in prison
|
| And the food was real good
|
| We had turkey and pistols
|
| Carved out of wood
|
| And I dream of her always
|
| Even when I don’t dream
|
| Her name’s on my tongue
|
| And her blood’s in my stream
|
| Wait awhile, eternity
|
| Old mother nature’s got nothing on me
|
| Come to me, run to me
|
| Come to me now
|
| We’re rolling, my sweetheart
|
| We’re flowing, 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 saccharin
|
| At a drug store sale
|
| Wait awhile, eternity
|
| Old mother nature’s got nothing on me
|
| Come to me, run to me
|
| Come to me now
|
| We’re rolling, my sweetheart
|
| We’re flowing, by God!
|
| The searchlight in the big yard
|
| Swings 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, goodnight
|
| Wait awhile, eternity
|
| Old mother nature’s got nothing on me
|
| Come to me, run to me
|
| Come to me now
|
| We’re rolling, my sweetheart
|
| We’re flowing, by God! |