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
Make my old [bad word] alive
Oh please, take me away and turn back the years
Sing me back home before I die

I remember Sunday morning, a choir from off the streets
They came in to sing a few old gospel songs
And I heard him tell the singers, there's a song my mama sang
Won't you sing it once before I move along?

Oh, won't you sing me back home? There's a songs I used to hear
Make my old [bad word] alive
Please, take me away and turn back the years
Sing me back home before I die

Oh, won't you sing me back home before I die?

I stood up to say, goodbye like all the rest
And I heard him tell the warden just before he reached my cell