Willie Jones

Willie Jones was a man I met when I lived in Baltimore
I was a guard and he was doing time
In the three long years he stayed there I got to know him well
Willie Jones was a friend of mine

He used to say, "Buddy, you know where I'm goin'
When they let me out of here
Alabama could be heaven if the Lord was there"
And he talked about the southland
Though he'd drifted from its shore
I never seen a man who loved it more

He talked about the whip-poor-wills in the Alabama night
Honeysuckle vine and sugarcane
Swimming holes and fishing poles and early morning frost
And sleeping under a tin roof when it rained

He talked about a country road and a cabin in the pines
And a girl with wavy long chestnut brown hair
He talked about the beauty of his Blue Ridge Mountain home
And damn near made me think that I was there

And he'd say, "Buddy, you know where I'm goin'
When they let me out of here
Alabama could be heaven if the Lord was there"
When a man ain't got no freedom
The time sure passes slow
Willie Jones had ten long years to go

It's been almost a years now since that hot night in July
Willie hit the guard and jumped the fence
I had my rifle ready but I couldn't let it fly
I shot over his head and we ain't seen him since

Then last week the postman brought a letter to my door
Marked no return address and no reply
It just said, "Nobody north of Birmingham is gonna see this boy again
But if you're ever down our way, won't you please drop by?"

Buddy, you know where I'm goin'
When they let me out of here
Alabama could be heaven if the Lord was there
And he talked about the southland
Though he'd drifted from its shore
Never seen a man who loved it more