Burdon, Gordon Letter from the county farm, letter from the county farm And the wind it has been blowin Its been blowin so strong Theyre afraid to raise the flag less it gets torn to shreds But God forbid the wind should ever stop blowin But if it did Im sure wed all fall down But sometimes it isnt 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 Im 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 prisners who are blind To the prisners who are blind Let me tell you one thing new at the county farm Theyve got muzak in the fields Which makes this life of mine a little more unreal A little more unreal But I wish theyd kill the sounds, I wish theyd kill the sounds You dont knowwhat its like to hear Debussy in a California prison field And I love I love to sing while Im workin I love to sing while Im workin And the wind has been blowin And the wind has been blowin Ive 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 Ive been lost in this game And it looks like theyre gonna make a crimnal 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, theyve cut you Theyve cut out the parts and the words that have feeling So Im left with only part of you I say Im 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 wouldnt mind, but they cut my hair quite some time ago They cut it off when I first came here Which tells me IndoChina 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 shouldnt think like that But this is murder and everybody accepts that Lord knows, they all accept it, and everybody knows thatt aint where its at So take care, pray for rain and maybe Ill see you Visiting hours next week And when the screw, when the screw says no touching Lord knows, Ill turn the other cheek
blowin, farm, wind, prisners, county