Crossroads Correctional

Crossroads Correctional

My name is William Sullivan, but here they call me sir
Three decades in corrections. I’ll rest when I retire
Each man born a mother’s son, each took his first sweet breath
One day he’ll take his last; while he’s in here, I won’t lose faith

Crossroads Correctional, inside these gothic walls
Six hundred men on seven tiers, by god I know them all
Here at the crossroads of decency and crime
Truth and lies are doing time

There’s a man named Robert Johnson, life without parole
He never heard of Robert Johnson and the legend of the crossroads
I let him use the music room. Jesse taught him how to play
Now he sings those songs with haunted grace and the Devil turns away

Crossroads Correctional, inside these gothic walls
Six hundred men on seven tiers, by god I know them all
Here at the crossroads of decency and crime
Truth and lies are doing time

In the glare of these florescent lights that don’t cast any shadows
Far away from home, under orders they must follow
In the trouble and the tedium, in the chaos and the clatter
I say, don’t let these men disappear, make their time here matter

My name is William Sullivan, in here they call me sir
Three decades in corrections. I’d take three decades more
I was born this side of Butterfield, it’s the only place I’ve known
And all the men at Crossroads are so far away from home

Crossroads Correctional, inside these gothic walls
Six hundred men on seven tiers, by god I know them all
Here at the crossroads of decency and crime
Truth and lies are doing time
Yes truth and lies…