By The Blue State Cowboys
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Do you think they’ll let me play all the tapes in prison?
Do you think they’ll try to trim my jet-black hair?
I’m gonna tell my tale, and the world will finally listen
When the warden puts my talk show on the air
Well, they took me from the people
On a cold December day
In handcuffs and my running shoes
I was quickly hauled away
And then like Gandhi and Mandela
I was thrown into a cell
Just a champion of the working man
From the humble House of Mell
Do you think they’ll let me play all the tapes in prison?
Do you think they’ll try to trim my jet-black hair?
I’m gonna tell my tale, and the world will finally listen
When the warden puts my talk show on the air
Then I made the rounds on TV
Just to let the people know
That the man they’d twice elected
Was as pure as driven snow
And I even got to talkin’
With the women from The View
About that “golden” conversation
That started this whole to-do
So now I’m off to prison
But the truth will set me free
And I’ll preach it every evening
On WROD
You see, the warden wants to hear me
On the prison radio
As the late-night voice from Cellblock Three
In state-run stereo
Do you think they’ll let me play all the tapes in prison?
Do you think they’ll try to trim my jet-black hair?
I’m gonna tell my tale, and the world will finally listen
When the warden puts my talk show on the air
–
Previously:
* Good King Rich
–
Comments welcome.
Posted on July 28, 2010