The warden led a prisoner down a hallway to his doom. I stood up to say goodbye like all the rest. And I heard him tell the warden, just before he reached my cell: Let my guitar playing friend do my request.
Let him sing me back home, with a song I used to hear. And make my old mem'ries come alive. Ane take me away and turn back the years. And sing me back home before I die.
I recall last Sunday morning, a choir from off the streets. Came in to sing a few old gospel songs. And I heard him tell the singers: There's a song my Mama sang. Could I hear it once before you move along?
Let him sing me back home, with a song I used to hear. And make my old mem'ries come alive And take me away and turn back the years. And sing me back home before I die.
