Down in the South where they employ convict labour,
the convicts have to work all day out on the levee,
stacking sandbags to keep the river from overflowing.
You must try and imagine that after an eight-hour day,
an old convict sitting over in the corner of the book house,
playing to himself on his guitar,
making up verses and thinking about all the things
he's going to do when he finally gets out and makes parole.
I'm going to Memphis when I make parole,
staying on the levee, watch that big boat blow.
You see me coming down the line,
no need to wonder why I feel so fine.
Going to see my baby in the early bright,
I know she's waiting for me, hope I'm right.
I know you boys going to miss me when I'm gone,
ain't going to miss none of you, not at all.
And when I get out,
going to have a ball,
going to get that jelly roll,
yeah,
keep it all.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Aha.
I'm going to Memphis when I make parole,
staying on the levee, watch that big boat blow.
You see me coming down that line,
no need to wonder why I feel so fine.
Going to see my baby in the early bright,
I know she's waiting for me, hope I'm right.
I know you boys going to miss me when I'm gone,
ain't going to miss none of you, not at all.
And when I get out,
going to have a ball,
going to get that jelly roll,
yeah,
keep it
all.
I'm going to Memphis,
uh-huh.
I'm going to Memphis,
oh yeah.
I'm going to Memphis,
mm-hmm.
I'm going to Memphis,
I'm gone.