Letter from the county farm, letter from the county farm
And the wind it has been blowin'
Its been blowin' so strong
They're afraid to raise the flag 'less it gets torn to shreds
But God forbid the wind should ever stop blowin'
But if it did
I'm sure we'd all fall down
But sometimes it isn't windy
Like last February
I remember it snowed
and a week later it hailed
And now it looks like raining
Now it looks like raining
I'm convinced that what makes the rain and hail so heavy over here
is that the sherrif has been messing with out minds.
handin' out questionnaries to the pris'ners who are blind
to the pris'ners who are blind
Let me tell you one thing new at the county farm
They've got muzak in the fields
which makes this life of mine a little more unreal
a little more unreal
But I wish they'd kill the sounds, I wish they'd kill the sounds
You don't knowwhat it's like to hear Debussy in a California prison field
And I love
I love to sing while I'm workin'
I love to sing while I'm workin'
And the wind has been blowin'
And the wind has been blowin'
I've given up reading for a time and taken up other pastimes
Such as watchin' winos gum their food and epileptics havin' bad times
More frequently I've been lost in this game
And it looks like they're gonna make a crim'nal out of me
A criminal out of me
But those guys who are down on me winnin'
Lord knows, they take the game so seriously
But what hurts me more, burts me more than anything
Is when I get your mail
When I get your mail, they've cut you
They've cut out the parts and the words that have feeling
So I'm left with only part of you
I say I'm only left with part of you
And the wind has been blowin'
And the wind has been blowin'
Oh, play your guitar, baby
Play your guitar, baby,
Get me off this farm, baby, take me away...
And apart from all this crap there is some peace and quiet
Except for the screws grumbling and mumbling and calling me a long hair
I wouldn't mind, but they cut my hair quite some time ago
They cut it off when I first came here
Which tells me Indo-China is really here behind this wire
And it soon will be dying engulfed in their own fire, in their own fire
In fact, they tell me that a boy like me shouldn't think like that
But this is murder and everybody accepts that.
Lord knows, they all accept it, and everybody knows thatt ain't where its at
So take care, pray for rain and maybe I'll see you
Visiting hours next week
And when the screw, when the screw says no touching,
Lord knows, I'll turn the other cheek.
(Burdon, Gordon)
