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No more card tricks,
Key turns, guard tours
Closed doors,
Watchtowers, strip searches
And osteoarthritis
When winter comes and its pain that devours you:
Tomorrow, outside
Goodbye to the sound of smells
The weight of hours to curse
The days of 48 hours
For this loudmouthed convict
And the oldest of the guards
Tomorrow the same heart out
Tomorrow, outside
Tomorrow, outside
Tomorrow, some air
And then,
Tomorrow, outside
No more bouts of latte,
The bouts of blues, the big cockroaches
The strong heads,
Which like dead leaves
are collected by the shovel when autumn comes,
at the other end of the cord
Tomorrow, from there air
Farewell to the empire of fear,
Where man struggles on the ground,
To the sound of screams and tears,
For him that took 20 rods
And the dean of the prawn
Tomorrow the same dizziness
Tomorrow, air
Tomorrow, outside
Tomorrow , air
And then,
Tomorrow, outside
Out of reach, outside the walls
Walk to go where?
Out of danger, far from the tough
Tomorrow is another day
Newborns without guidance
Giving up to be reborn