There¡¯s a prison on Route 41
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Home to my father, first cousin, and son
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And I visit every weekend
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Not with my body but with prayers that I send
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I¡¯ve a reason for my absentee
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And no lack of love for my dear family
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And my savior is not Christ the Lord
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But one named Virginia whom I live my life for
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Cause I owe mine to her
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I¡¯d rot in that prison for sure
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If she tossed me aside
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And not showed me the way to abide
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By the creed, the law of the land,
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unlike my uncle, grandpa, and great aunt
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Whom I¡¯d most likely see every day
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If not for the righteous path of Virginia¡¯s way
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There¡¯s a prison on Route 41
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Home to my mother, stepbrother, and son
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And I¡¯d tear down that jail by myself
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If not for Virginia who made me someone else
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And I owe it to her
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I¡¯d rot in that prison for sure
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If she tossed me aside
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And not showed me the way to abide
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By the precepts of her purity
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So unlike the habits of my whole family
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Whom I only see down on my knees
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In prayer by Virginia whom I live for to please
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Prison on Route 41
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| Iron & Wine |
