Willie Jones was a man I met when I lived in Baltimore I was a guard and he was doing time In the three long years he stayed there I got to know him well Willie Jones was a friend of mine.
He used to say buddy you know where I'm goin' when they let me out of here Alabama could be heaven if the Lord was there And he talked about the southland though he'd drifted from its shore I never seen a man who loved it more.
He talked about the whippoorwills in the Alabama night Honeysuckle vine and sugar cane Swimming holes and fishing poles and early morning frost And sleeping under a tin roof when it rained.
He talked about a country road and a cabin in the pines And a girl with wavy long chestnut brown hair He talked about the beauty of his Blue Ridge Mountain home And damn near made me think that I was there.
And he'd say buddy you know where I'm goin' when they let me out of here Alabama could be heaven if the Lord was there When a man ain't got no freedom the time sure passes slow Willie Jones had ten long years to go.
It's been almost a years now since that hot night in July Willie hit the guard and jumped the fence I had my rifle ready but I couldn't let it fly I shot over his head and we ain't seen him since.
Then last week the postman brought a letter to my door Marked No Return Address and No Reply It just said nobody north of Birmingham is gonna see this boy again But if you're ever down our way won't you please drop by.
Buddy you know where I'm goin' when they let me out of here Alabama could be heaven if the Lord was there When a man ain't got no freedom the time sure passes slow Willie Jones had ten long years to go...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
