Walls Of Red Wing - Bob Dylan

    Oh, the age of the inmates
    I remember quite freely:
    No younger than twelve,
    No older 'n seventeen.
    Thrown in like bandits
    And cast off like criminals,
    Inside the walls,
    The walls of Red Wing.

    From the dirty old mess hall
    You march to the brick wall,
    Too weary to talk
    And too tired to sing.
    Oh, it's all afternoon
    You remember your home town,
    Inside the walls,
    The walls of Red Wing.

    Oh, the gates are cast iron
    And the walls are barbed wire.
    Stay far from the fence
    With the 'lectricity sting.
    And it's keep down your head
    And stay in your number,
    Inside the walls,
    The walls of 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 walls,
    The walls of Red Wing.

    It's many a guard
    That stands around smilin',
    Holdin' his club
    Like he was a king.
    Hopin' to get you
    Behind a wood pilin',
    Inside the walls,
    The walls of 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 a-sleepin',
    Inside the walls,
    The walls of Red Wing.

    As the rain rattled heavy
    On the bunk-house shingles,
    And the sounds in the night,
    They made my ears ring.
    'Til the keys of the guards
    Clicked the tune of the morning,
    Inside the walls,
    The walls of Red Wing.

    Oh, some of us'll end up
    In St. Cloud Prison,
    And some of us'll wind up
    To be lawyers and things,
    And some of us'll stand up
    To meet you on your crossroads,
    From inside the walls,
    The walls of Red Wing.
     

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