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Prisoner's Blues

from Bush League Bard by Van Walker

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lyrics

PRISONER'S BLUES
By Van Walker

Well I'm sitting in my cell, I don't trust the outside world

Lies became Truth, Heaven got worse than Hell

There's far too much of nothing, & still people cry for more

Blindness was the answer when the old man's eyes got sore

Reality is only a small percentage of what we choose not to ignore
 

There's too much information, too much greed behind the scenes

We stole the sacred text but no one’s got the soul to know what it means

You're crucified as a heretic & an infidel today 

If you can’t follow all your metaphor with ridiculous cliche

This life's just one tall story, never let the truth get in the way

We gladly wear our ball & chain, freedom's long passe


Ignorance is a virtue, oblique's become opaque

Every night I go to sleep & I dream that I'm awake

I stand here gripping these prison bars, constantly in doubt

I can tell if I'm looking in or if the guards are looking out

But they found a way to rob a man with nothing left to lose

And now the jailer whistles the prisoner's blues



I travelled through the world before they threw me in the joint

I could lie to get what I wanted but I wanted truth so what’s the point

I hung out on the inside, teetered on the edge

Went to see the Oracle but I misheard what it said

So I swapped the artists ideals for a little Luger & I killed some folks instead


Well it seems not everybody can be free & I was too slow I suppose

When the cops burst in they said 'Congratulations!'
Cuffed me & they broke my nose

Told me they were protecting me & all the people I might hurt

That I was a degenerate but they all seemed to like my work

Told me I was special, not just another scum inmate

Told me I was the Ubermench, a man compared to the primate

Told me not to struggle, suggested I accept my fate

Told me I was an Artiste, I said 'Fine. What's the going rate?'

Then they threw me from an airplane so I could describe the view 

For now the jailer whistles the prisoner's blues



I visited the prison doctor, he was smoking a cigarette

He said Longevity was over-ratted, who wants to be old & decrepit?

Whip the monkey long enough maybe he will dance

It might alleviate the boredom, might be entertaining while it lasts

For there's not enough to go around, there's only so much wealth

Seems the only way to not get robbed is to go rob someone else

God created the Heavens & Earth but Man created Sin

When another's pain means nothing cause you don't feel anything

They're fighting a losing battle they are never going to win

Still they got me in the corner waiting for the music to begin


Everyday they whip me & force me to produce

They don't want originality, they prefer a substitute

Something like that other one, c'mon, play it again, Sam!

Now the prisons are filled with Artists, the lunatics are the Big Boss Man

They've taken over the asylum & baby I blame you

For now the jailers whistle the prisoners blues



Everyday they whip me & force me to produce

But pain is not the reason, even if it was, what's the use?

Eventually they worked it out if they just left me alone

Loneliness would get me & from my cell I'd begin to moan

But what's so appealing I haven't got a clue 

But now the jailer whistles the prisoner's blues!



Baby there's a black dog creeping around my door

Every day I feed him all I got but the next day he comes back wanting more

Maybe we deserve this, maybe we should go
& leave this whole damn mess behind for another animal

For even some low parasite would never kill it's host

So when you're talking about intelligence, a Flea or Me, who's got the most?


So I'm sitting in my cell, I don't trust the outside world

I'm glad I'm incarcerated.... better that outside in that Hell

Most the time you look around, you don't have to look too far

You're lookin in the mirror & still you can't see who you are

For they make you numb with pleasure, then they dare to act surprised

When you're poisoned with sensation & you're left desensitised 

& you can't quite remember any time before the greed

Life & Death is neither here nor there when you lose Eternity

& you try to kill your Brother, trying to deny

That any form of Murder isn't really Suicide 




credits

from Bush League Bard, released August 20, 2010

CLICK HERE TO RETURN TO:
www.ramblinvanwalker.com

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about

Van Walker Melbourne, Australia

Tasmanian musician Van Walker is the voice and writer behind groups such as The Swedish Magazines, Livingstone Daisies, Goatpiss Gasoline & Heartbrokers, as well as 7 critically acclaimed solo albums to date

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