I liked the one with the sky storm The one with the abandoned barn I heard you painted it in prison
Right before they took your brushes away
Michael, I don't know you But I dream of you sometimes To tell you the truth, I don't know what you did To deserve such hard times ♪ I'd read to you on Sundays Right before they took your visitors away I'd kept all the letters you've sent
The ones about being home again Michael, I don't know you But I dream of you sometimes To tell you the truth, I don't know what you did To deserve such hard times When you paint the pretty women Do you see them in your cell? When they take you out for field work Do you hear the city bells?