(ian mclagan, ron wood, rod stewart)

cell block five, how i hate bromide
with your coffee in the morning makes you so sterile
the corner gang never made a man of me boys

you know the walls are taller and the inmates scheme
there´s no one here that´s more than seventeen
bet your life there´s a riot tonight in the mess hall

a letter from your home town makes you sad
you read it when the warden´s had a second laugh
he said sentimental rubbish ain´t got no place in here boy

see the years roll on by
such a senseless waste of time
what a way to reform
call out your number
who´s a nonconformer

shakey brown didn´t hang around
when a molotov didn´t do its stuff
he went back in there and said it with a sawed-off shotgun

you know poker sam couldn´t lose a hand
if he did you was hit by a downtown tram
or crushed in the path of a moving elevator

see the years roll on by
such a senseless waste of time
what a way to reform
call out your number
who´s a nonconformer

when i get out i´ll get straight
if this old world gives me half a break
but, if you see me in the corner with a chip on my shoulder
don´t blame me