Honestly, I'm a Liar, & Other Balances & Imbalances

December 15, 2014

“CHRISTMAS IN PRISON” by John Prine

It was Christmas in prison and the food was real good
We has turkey and pistols carved out of wood
I dream of her always even when I don’t dream
Her name’s on my tongue and her blood’s in my strings

Wait a while eternity
Old Mother Nature’s got nothin’ on me
Come to me, run to me, come to me now
I’m rollin’ my sweetheart
I’m flowin’ 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 drug store sale

Wait a while eternity
Old Mother Nature’s got nothin’ on me
Come to me, run to me, come to me now
I’m rollin’ my sweetheart
I’m flowin’ by God

The search light in the big yard turns ’round with the gun
And spotlights the snowflakes like the 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 a while eternity
Old Mother Nature’s got nothin’ on me
Come to me, run to me, come to me now
I’m rollin’ my sweetheart
I’m flowin’ by God

.
John Prine
.

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