The walls creep in slowly,
As silence fills the air,
The desperate calls of cellmates,
As fleas run through your hair.

The beds made of metal,
Pillows stiff of weed,
Blankets are merely paper,
And the air is never clean.

The stale bread for breakfast,
As well as lunch and dinner,
I don't think in my whole life,
That I've ever been thinner.

Locked up in a crazy house,
In the prison cells,
Long time that we're coming out,
The aroma of weed, you smell.

The people there are rotton,
The crazy's all go here,
I am one as well,
I hope no one hears.

I made a simple mistake,
I blacked out I couldn't tell,
Glad, I'm released,
To home, I know so well.