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THE CONVICT (Jim Ringer) How old are you, my fine young man I'm nine, but I'm going on ten Got put in reform school by my own dad And I'll never get back home again But my daddy's an honorable man And what did you do so awful, my boy Stole candy and pop from the store And my dad had no use for a thief in his house Though I never had stolen before Now I'll never get home any more And how old are you, my handsome young man I'll soon be turning sixteen Been back this time for a couple of years And my daddy's the man turned me in He's the meanest man I've ever seen And what did you do so awful, my boy Well, I went home, but he wouldn't let me stay So I stole twenty dollars that night while he slept And I set out to make my own way But they caught me the very next day And how old are you, my fine young man Next month I'll be twenty-four Been in this pen since I turned eighteen I got busted for stealing a car Now I'll never get home any more And how do you like it in prison, my boy Well, I'll tell you, it really ain't bad I get lodging and clothes and three squares and smokes And there's jailhouse whores to be had And I owe all of this to my dad Who knows how old the old-timer was That died today out on the yard They say he was nine and sixteen and sixty Stole candy and money and cars He looked older, 'cause life has been hard And how long had he been in this dirty old pen And did he leave kids or a wife No, he shot down his dad, it was the last kin he had And they sent him back here to do life He's a convict that really done life @jail @child filename[ CONVICT JN |
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