Walls Of Red Wing - Joan Baez

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.