Text: Jim White. Other. Jailbird.

Dixie is a scourge and a scar
and a girl in my heart
and a state of mind.

Jesus is the man with a plan...
he's a short haired Mexican friend of mine.

This small town crowd will drag you down--
can't leave your past behind.
Wipers in the rain tapping out time...
coming up on a new state line.

I wanna be a jailbird,
from the prison of my own damn mind.
Gonna get me a fast car,
set out and see what I can find.
Brick up the well of tears and disappear---
leave myself behind.
I wanna be a jailbird
from the prison of my own damn mind.

Midnight, take a short cut
through the downtown cemetary.
No stepping on graves.
Check the statue of the Virgin Mary.
She's catching moonlight in the shadows---
revealing spider webs.
Can you see the black widow
hung between our lady's hands?

I wanna be a jailbird
from the prison of my own damn mind.
Gonna get me a fast car,
set out and see what I can find.
Brick up the well of tears and disappear---
leave myself behind.
I wanna be a jailbird
from the prison of my own damn mind.

Now used to be when I was young
I was so hungry for oblivion.
My thoughts would linger
like fingers in a deadly web.
But in time, as sorrow showed it's face,
in kind I learned to ache for grace.
To work and pray to one day be
delivered whole, alive and free.

I wanna be a jailbird,
from the prison of my own damn mind.
Gonna get me a fast car,
set out and see what I can find.
Brick up the well of tears and disappear---
leave myself behind.
I wanna be a jailbird
from the prison of my own damn mind.