Last year I cried in a stolen moment
This year I'm dry as cured cement
Down the row some other fella's cryin
I'm doin push-ups
It's Christmas in the pen
I know a guy
He sketches angels pen and ink
Three bucks a card
Though I haven't got a girl to send one
I buy them all for pharmies on the yard
Then after chow we meet the warden
And shake hands for peppermints and socks
His warm benevolence does not extend
To those men on solitary blocks
We all play reindeer games
Well, not all of us
Little Rudolph was singing to the guards
On this island of misfits
With it's violent statistics
You're safer locking antlers in the herd
Last year I cried like a little bitch
This year I'm better
I'm colder and I'm smarter
My people know I ain't comin home for Christmas
I don't write them letters
I don't make it harder
Yeah, my people know I ain't comin home for Christmas