Christmas in Prison John Prine
Christmas In Prison
By John Prine
It was [G]Christmas in prison
And the [C]food was real good
We had [G]turkey and pistols
Carved out of [D]wood
And I [G]dream of her always
Even [C]when I don't dream
Her [G]name's on my tongue
And her [D]blood's in my [G]stream
Chorus:
[D]Wait awhile [C]eternit[G]y
[C]Old mother nature's got [G]nothing on [D]me
[G]Come to me, run to me, [C]come to me, now[G]
We're [G]rolling, my sweetheart, we're [D]flowing by [G]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.
Chorus
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.
Chorus
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