I CAN'T STAND SITTIN' IN A CELL
As sung by Frank Crumit on "Frank Crumit Returns (1920-1938)"

I'm writin' you this letter, my sweet forget-me-not,
To tell you that I cannot keep that date.
They've stuck me in the hoosegow for forty-seven years,
And I'd hate to see you stand around and wait.
The place is nice and cozy; you can't get out of that.
For ninety years they've had no prison break,
And the food is very tasty; the guards are all polite,
But there's one complaint I really have to make:

Oh, I can't stand sittin' in a cell.
No, I can't stand sittin' in a cell.
When I stand, I hit the ceiling.
When I sit, I hurt my feeling.
I can't stand sittin' in a cell.

I'm takin' music lessons; I'm in the prison band.
Well, anyhow, I'll tell you all the facts.
The sheriff told the jury he saw me blow a safe,
So they took his word and now I blow a sax.
They say that I'm a genius and the warden thinks I'm great.
He has me playin' morning night and noon.
He wants to hear me render a solo on a saw,
So if he gets me a saw, I'll see you soon.

Oh, I can't stand sittin' in a cell.
No, I can't stand sittin' in a cell.
Though I stood a hard-boiled egg up,
Even stood a wooden leg up,
I can't stand sittin' in a cell.

I dug myself a tunnel to make a getaway.
I had to be as quiet as a mouse.
And I landed in a cellar, and when I looked around,
I discovered I was in the warden's house.
And the warden came a-runnin; a gun was in his hand.
He saw the hole when he turned on the light.
And he dove into the tunnel and he hollered, "You're a pal,
Cause my wife was gonna keep me in tonight."

Oh, I can't stand sittin' in a cell.
No, I can't stand sittin' in a cell.
I can stand a lot o' callus
On my feet, but goodnight, Alice!
I can't stand sittin' in a cell.