Woke up this morning, had the Lewisburg Blues
Went to breakfast this morning, French toast was cold
Meat was greasy, they ran out of milk for my bowl
I went to the Warden ’bout the way we get fed
He said you lucky you ain’t getting’ water and bread
I said Mr. Warden, that ain’t the rules
He said, this is Lewisburg Penitentiary, it ain’t a thing you can do
Woke up this morning, had the Lewisburg Blues
I’m so hungry, I could eat my shoes
A Journal of Community-Engaged Writing and Rhetoric