The Prison Doors
August 1, 2014
August 1, 2014

Out of Prison

I’m getting out of prison free to fly straight back inside.
The cards are stacked against, keeping me outside.
No bank account for me, the manager was mean
Having no home no family, just me
And no job with my criminal record, on my cv.
Little boxes were ticked on the rehabilitation form;
Meant much to the establishment a joke to us all.
No tick for knowing, how to be a better criminal
Get drugs , or con people , be more of an animal.
I have these new skills now, in spades you see;
No vote in jail so who cares who governs the country.
Ministers are on the take, some are with us here.
It’s better to be in than out, as hunger and cold, I fear.