I stood before the Judge that day As he refused me bail And I knew that I would spend my time Awaiting trial in jail I said there is no justice As they led me out of the door And the Judge said, "This isn't a court of justice, son This is a court of law."
They first sent me to Windsor And then to Stoke on Trent In a holding cell in Liverpool Three days and nights I spent My solicitor can't find me And my family don't know I keep telling them that I'm innocent They just say, "Come on son, in you go."
I was picked up on suspicion of something I haven't done Here I sit in 'F' wing waiting for my trial to come It's a cruel unusual punishment that society demands Innocent till proven guilty, rotting on remand
I ended up in this jail Built in 1882 When one man to one prison cell Was a Victorian value Now three of us are squeezed in here And you can't escape the smell Of that bucket in the corner And we eat in here as well
They let me out of this cage To slop that bucket out To get my food and bring it back And if I'm lucky, get a shower Apart from one hour's exercise I'm locked in here all day You don't turn criminals into citizens By treating them this way
Is the price of law and order the stench of Wormwood Scrubs With judges quick to sentence more down from above It's a cruel unusual punishment that society demands Innocent till proven guilty, rotting on remandTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.