The warden led a prisoner down the 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 playng friend do my request.
Let him sing me back home, with a song I used to hear,
Make my old memories come alive,
Take me away and turn back the years,
Sing me back home before I die".
I recall, last Sunday morning, a choir from off the street,
Came in to do 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?
Won't you sing me back home, the song I used to hear?
Make my old memories come alive.
Take me away and turn back the years,
Sing me back home before I die".