Christmas In Prison

I was reminded how good John Prine is when I heard "Christmas In Prison" today and cried. We've talked about him before. I'm obliged to post the lyrics below, but if you can, give it a listen.

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

And her blood's in my stream.

Wait awhile eternity

Old 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 drug store sale.

Wait awhile eternity

Old 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 search light in the big yard

Swings 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. Goodnight.

Wait awhile eternity

Old 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!