IN THIS ROOM WHERE THE WALLS GROW COLD
THE CLOCK COUNTS OFF MY GRAYS IM TOLD
I AM HOLDING MY MIND IN THE PALMS OF MY HANDS
AND I AM STUCK IN THIS LIFE I CANT UNDERSTAND
HELD DOWN BY THIS CLOCK AND ITS HANDS HOLD MY FEET
AND THE MINUTES HOLD HOSTAGE MY DREAMS TO BE
WHAT DO YOU KNOW? OF THE FEDS AND TIME
HERE WE ARE NUMBERS AND CONSPIRACIES BLIND
BUT THEN AGAIN WERE ALL DOING TIME
THE WALLS HOLD SECRETS OF DEATHS AND PAIN
THE SHEETS COVER UP MORE THEN A CONVICTS NAME.
I COUNT THEM OFF AS THE FEDS COUNT THE COST
AND PRAY FOR OUR POTTERS FIELD TO THOSE WHO WE’VE LOST
THE STREETS ARE NOT GOLD AND MY NAME IS JANE DOE
YOU CAN NEVER KNOW THAT ITS ALL ONE BIG SHOW
I AM HERE AS LIVING PROOF
CONSPIRACY CHARGES WILL TAKE YOUR LIFE
BRING YOU ALL SO MUCH HEARTACHE AND STRIFE.
MANDATORY MINIMUMS AND 25 YEARS ON THE HOUSE
BUT DAMN MY BUNK MATE TOOK A CHILD OUT
ONLY 10 YEARS FOR RAPE AND MURDER
I GOT SENT HERE FOR DRUGS AND A GUN NOTHING FURTHER
NO VIOLENCE, NO DEATH, NO HOLES IN MY CHEST…
JUST A LIFE SENTENCE OF 25 YEARS… IM SCARED TO DEATH
BUT THE CLOCK IS TICKING DOWN
BUT THE ONE THING THAT I KNOW
GOD IS BURNING IT DOWN… IM TOLD.
SO WE PRAY ON OUR KNEES AND HOPE IN THE NIGHT
THAT GOD LET ME MAKE IT THROUGH
JUST ONE MORE NIGHT.
— Lynn W.