The Songs He Sang
Cryderville Jail: Lyrics
As performed by Cisco Houston
Cryderville Jail, ain't no jail at all, The lice in that jail are chewin' the wall. Chorus: It's hard times in the Cryderville Jail, It's hard times, poor boy. There's a big bull ring in the middle of the floor, And a damned old jailer to open the door. Chorus: Your pockets he'll pick, and your clothes he will sell, Your hands he will handcuff, oh damn him to hell. Chorus: Our bed it is made of old rotten rugs, And when we lay down we are covered with bugs: Chorus: The bugs they swear if we don't give bail, We are bound to get lousy in Cryderville Jail. Chorus: I wrote to my mother to send me a knife, The lice and the chinches have threatened my life. Chorus: And here's to the lawyer, he'll come to your cell, And swear he will clear you in spite of all Hell. Chorus: He'll get all of your money before he will rest, Then he'll say, "Plead guilty, I think it the best." Chorus: Old Judge Simpson will read you the law, The damndest fool judge that you ever saw. Chorus: And there sits the jury, a devil of a crew, They'll look a poor pris'ner clean through and through. Chorus: And here's to the sheriff, I like to forgot, The darndest old rascal we have in the lot. Chorus: Your privileges he will take, your clothes he will sell, Get drunk on your money, oh damn him to hell. Chorus: And now I have come to the end of my song, I'll leave it to the boys as I go along. Chorus: Yes it's hard times in the Cryderville jail, It's hard times poor boy.
A fine performance that sounds as if it is based on intimate knowledge. The downtrodden get an even shorter end of the stick, with the corrupt lawmen taking advantage.