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cell block five, how I hate Bromide with your coffee in the morning makes you so sterile the corner gang never made a man of me boy you know the walls are tall and the inmates scheme there's no one here that’s more than seventeen bet your life there's a riot tonight in the messhall, listen a letter from your home town makes you sad you read it when the wardens had a second laugh he said sentimental rubbish ain't got no place in here boy see the years roll on by such a senseless waste of time what a way to reform call out your number, who's a nonconformer not me baby, oh yeah Shakey Brown didn't hang around when a Molotow didn't do its stuff you went back in there and said it with a sawed-off shotgun you know Poker Sam couldn't lose a hand if he did you were hit by a downtown tram or crushed in the path of a moving elevator, elevator see the years roll on by such a senseless waste of time what a way to reform call out your number, who's a nonconformer not me baby, oh yeah when I get out, I'll get straight if this old world gives me half a break but, if you see me in the corner with a chip on my shoulder don't blame me, don't blame me baby, no, no got to make a break for the county line
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