Oh, the age of the inmates, I remember quite freely
No younger than twelve, no older than seventeen
Thrown in like bandits, cast off like criminals
Inside the grounds, round the walls, a red wing
From the dirty old mess hall, you march to the brick wall
Too weary to talk and too tired to sing
guitar solo
Oh, it's all afternoon, you remember your hometown
Inside the grounds, round the walls, a red wing
Oh, the gates are cast iron and the walls are barbed wire
Stay far from the fence with electricity stained
And it's to keep down your head and stay in your number
On the inside grounds, round the walls, a red wing
Oh, it's fare thee well to the deep hollow dungeon
Farewell to the boardwalk that takes you to the screen
And farewell to the minutes they threaten you with it
Inside the grounds, round the walls, a red wing
It's many a guard that stands around smiling
Holding his club like he was a king
Hoping to get you behind the wood-pile end
Inside the grounds, round the walls, a red wing
The night aimed shadows through the crossbar windows
And the wind punched hard to make the wall siding sing
It's many a night I pretended to be sleeping
On the inside grounds, round the walls, a red wing
As the rain rattled heavy on the bunkhouse shingles
And the sounds in the night that make my ears ring
Tell the keys of the guards to click the tune of the morning
On the inside grounds, round the walls, a red wing
Oh, some of us will end up in St. Cloud Prison
And some of us will wind up to be lawyers
And things
And some of us will stand to meet you on your crossroads
From inside the grounds, round the walls, a red wing
From the inside grounds, round the walls, a red wing
From the inside grounds, round the walls, a red wing
From the inside grounds, round the walls, a red wing