Oh, the age of the inmates
I remember quite freely:
No younger than twelve,
No older 'n seventeen.
Thrown in like bandits
And cast off like criminals,
Inside the grounds,
Around the walls of Red Wing.

From the dirty old mess hall
You march to that brick wall,
Too weary to talk
And too tired to sing.
Oh, it's all afternoon
You remember your home town,
Inside the grounds,
'Round the walls of Red Wing.

\

Oh, the gates are cast iron
And the walls are barbed wire.
Stay far from the fence
With the electricity sting.
And it's keep down your head
And stay in your number,
On the inside grounds,
'Round the walls of Red Wing.

Oh, it's fare thee well
To the deep hollow dungeon,
Farewell to the boardwalk
That takes you to the screen.
And farewell to the minutes
They threaten you with it,
Inside the grounds,
'Round the walls of Red Wing.

It's many a guard
That stands around smiling,
Holding his club
Like he was a king.
Hopin' to get you
Behind a wood pilin',
Inside the grounds,
'Round the walls of Red Wing.

The night aimed shadows
Through the crossbar windows,
And the wind punched hard
To make the wall-siding sing.
It's many a night I pretended to be sleepin',
On the inside grounds,
'Round the walls of Red Wing.

As the rain rattled heavy
On the bunk-house shingles,
And the sounds in the night,
They made my ears ring.
'Til the keys of the guards
Clicked the tune of the morning,
On the inside grounds,
'Round the walls of Red Wing.

Oh, some of us'll end up
In Saint Cloud Prison,
And some of us'll wind up
To be lawyers and things,
And some of us'll stand
To meet you on your crossroads,
From inside the grounds,
Around the walls of Red Wing.

From inside the grounds,
Around the walls of Red Wing.