The exhaust from the prison van’s going to heaven

But I’m going to Attica

Gonna put a hundred miles

Between me and my dealing habit

I’m watching Poughkeepsie move by

In the afternoon rain

My hands are turning blue

From these cuffs they got me in

break

I tried to keep my job

At the dollar store

Found out my mama was sick and

A dollar wasn’t enough anymore

I promise you mama,

I’m gonna get you them pills

I got me a box of bags

And a baker’s scale

15 grams of heroin

An ounce of speed

15 years to life

Rockefeller, Rockefeller, Rockefeller

That’s a long old time

My brother was shot down on Warren St

A year ago tonight

Can’t you see the medics with his body

In the siren light

I promise you, brother,

I’ma be a good dad

I’ma give our children something

Like we never had

Chorus

Twenty boys in orange clothes

In the jailhouse yard

Twenty needle marks

On the arms of God

500 picketers this morning

On the governor’s lawn

50 white stars, my darling,

In the milky dawn

What fun.