Twenty Years

Well I got on me;
it's my Angola prison ID.
Ain't a place in this whole damn city willing to hire me.
It's been twenty years.

And a horn blows from a riverboat.
It sounds the same as the day I went away.
You know it sounds just the same.

In 1979 man I was always high.
I don't remember committing the crime,
but I remember doing the time.
It's been twenty years.

And a horn blows from a sousaphone.
To me it sounds like a moan.

My eyes are not like yours.
My eyes are froze;
from the years in a jail cell.
In fear of my foes.
It's been twenty years.

And a horn blows from a riverboat.
And it sounds the same as the day I went away.
You know it sounds just the same.