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You're Gonna Miss Me (When I Get Home)Robert worked the mailroom, at a Texas penas he sorted those letters, sometimes he opened themsteam from tea water, unsealed them right quickcos those hellfire cellblocks, don't leave cons much spitone man wrote his mother, swore he didn't do the crimethe DA needed convictions, come election timehe said, "Ma, I've seen things, after five years in the slambootheel nooses and tooth brush knives, I'm a diff'rent manso you're gonna miss me when I get homeyou're gonna miss me when I get homeyou won't know me no moreI'm won't be who I was beforeyou're gonna miss me when I get home"well, there's all kinda convicts, in the hole and on the yardthe meanest man in D-Block, useta be a guardone new guy'd collected debts, for sharks in San Antonehe knows a two-fingered hold, that snaps a healthy bonebut when he got a picture, of his year-old sonhe wrote his girlfriend saying, his gangster days were done"so you're gonna miss me when I get homeyou're gonna miss me when I get homeyou won't know me no moreI'm won't be who I was beforeyou're gonna miss me when I get home"Rob saw one guy's letters, go out ev'ry weekthough they all came back returned, he'd never admit defeathe kept writing his father, about a kindly priestand how God had set him free, before he'd been releasedthe last one begged his daddy, to forgive him at lastand to be there when he got out, and watch him through the glasshe said, "after midnight, I'll be present but not therebut I won't be gone, Dad...cos I'll be everywhereand you're gonna miss me when I get homeyou're gonna miss me when I get homeyou won't know me no moreI'm won't be who I was beforeyou're gonna miss me when I get home"(c)2005 Robert George