Cryderville jail ain't no jail at all
You stare at the ceiling then you stare at the walls
Oh its hard times in the cryderville jail
Hard times poor boy
You dont use your body you dont use your mind
You're just a poor boy in jail passing the time...
I wrote to my mother please send me a knife
The bugs in this jailhouse have threatened my life...
Here's to the cook I wish he were dead
It's old boiled beef and old cold corn bread...
Here's to the jailer he'll come to your cell
It's hard to believe he won't wind up in hell...
In walks your lawyer with a big lawyer smile
He'll swear he will clear you but it might take a while
He'll take all your money before he will rest
He'll say boy plead guilty I think it's the best
And old Judge Simpkins will read us the law
Biggest damn fool a poor boy ever saw
And there sits the jury one hell of a crew
They'll look a poor boy all through through and through
And here's to the sherif I almost forgot
Just about the worst of them all in this lot
As recorded on #121 "Blues & Branches"
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