Dixie is a scourge and a scar and a girl in my heart and a state of mind.
Jesus is the man with a plan... he's a short haired Mexican friend of mine.
This small town crowd will drag you down-- can't leave your past behind. Wipers in the rain tapping out time... coming up on a new state line.
I wanna be a jailbird, from the prison of my own damn mind. Gonna get me a fast car, set out and see what I can find. Brick up the well of tears and disappear--- leave myself behind. I wanna be a jailbird from the prison of my own damn mind.
Midnight, take a short cut through the downtown cemetary. No stepping on graves. Check the statue of the Virgin Mary. She's catching moonlight in the shadows--- revealing spider webs. Can you see the black widow hung between our lady's hands?
I wanna be a jailbird from the prison of my own damn mind. Gonna get me a fast car, set out and see what I can find. Brick up the well of tears and disappear--- leave myself behind. I wanna be a jailbird from the prison of my own damn mind.
Now used to be when I was young I was so hungry for oblivion. My thoughts would linger like fingers in a deadly web. But in time, as sorrow showed it's face, in kind I learned to ache for grace. To work and pray to one day be delivered whole, alive and free.
I wanna be a jailbird, from the prison of my own damn mind. Gonna get me a fast car, set out and see what I can find. Brick up the well of tears and disappear--- leave myself behind. I wanna be a jailbird from the prison of my own damn mind.
Compositor: Michael Davis Pratt (Jim White) ECAD: Obra #16867871