- John Prine Christmas In Prison 歌词
- John Prine
- 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, her blood's in my stream
Wait awhile, eternity
Ole 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 saccharine at a drugstore sale
Wait awhile, eternity
Ole 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 bigyard swings 'round with the gun
And spotlights the snowflakes like dust in the sun
It's Christmas in prison there'll be music tonight
I'll probably get homesick, I love you, good night
Wait awhile, eternity
Ole 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
|
|
