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
|
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.
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Stay far from the fence
|
With the 'lectricity sting.
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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.
|
|
It's many a guard
|
That stands around smilin',
|
Holdin' his club
|
Like he was a king.
|
Hopin' to get you
|
Behind a wood pilin',
|
Inside the walls,
|
The walls of Red Wing.
|
|
The night aimed shadows
|
Through the crossbar windows,
|
And the wind punched hard
|
To make the wall-siding sing.
|
It's many a night I pretended to be a-sleepin',
|
Inside the walls,
|
The walls of Red Wing.
|
|
As the rain rattled heavy
|
On the bunk-house shingles,
|
And the sounds in the night,
|
They made my ears ring.
|
'Til the keys of the guards
|
Clicked the tune of the morning,
|
Inside the walls,
|
The walls of Red Wing.
|
|
Oh, some of us'll end up
|
In St. Cloud Prison,
|
And some of us'll wind up
|
To be lawyers and things,
|
And some of us'll stand up
|
To meet you on your crossroads,
|
From inside the walls,
|
The walls of Red Wing.
|
|
-----------------
|
Walls Of Red Wing
|
Bob Dylan |