Prison Yard Walk
The Americans Lyrics
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To a rapping on your door
Someone working for the warden
Says, Get your feet on the floor
You go walking down the hallway
You feel the eyes on you
And you don't know what they're thinking
You don't know what they're going to do
You do the prison yard walk
One hour a day
With your head in the clouds
Your feet feel far away
You do the prison yard walk
And you're feeling fine
Taking it one day at a time
Inmate receiving
New men walk in
Jeans once worn baggy
Now worn thin
You hand 'em their Bob Barkers
And they look you in the eye
You're just twenty-three
And the world's already passing you by
You do the prison yard walk
With no laces in your shoes
We all must pay
For the lives we choose
You do the prison yard walk
And your feet are flying
You're taking it one day at a time
The girl who used to write you
Don't write you no more
You stared at her picture
Till your heart got sore
You know she's going places
You're not allowed
But your memory gets hazy
When you think about her now
And the prison yard walk
Is only a blur
You walk it with them
But you're thinking of her
You do the prison yard walk
And keep an empty mind
And keep taking it one day at a time
When you've heard every word
In your dying mind
And it's the same old voice
You've been hearing your whole life
You keep yourself busy
And do the best you can do
And they call that killing time
But it's the time that winds up killing you
You do the prison yard walk
One hour a day
And it's hard to believe
It could be any other way
You do the prison yard walk
Right down the line
You're taking it one day at a time
The song Prison Yard Walk by The Americans is a hauntingly beautiful ballad that paints a vivid picture of life inside a prison. The song opens with the sound of someone knocking on the door, and the lyrics describe the daily routine of a prisoner - waking up to a warden's call, walking down the hallway, and feeling the eyes of the other prisoners on him. The chorus uses the metaphor of a "prison yard walk" - the one hour a day prisoners are allowed outside to exercise - to describe the monotony and isolation of prison life. The verse about new inmates, receiving their Bob Barker uniforms and walking in with worn-out jeans, highlights how quickly time passes inside while the world outside changes.
The second verse of the song shifts focus to the singer's personal life. He's only twenty-three, but he's already in prison, and he has lost touch with the girl who used to write him letters. The song describes how memories of the outside world begin to fade, and the prison yard walk, once a painful reminder of what the prisoner is missing, becomes a blur, a background to the prisoner's thoughts. The song concludes with a warning - the time spent in prison might be called "killing time," but it leads to the prisoner's slow death.
The song is a poignant commentary on the human cost of punishment and imprisonment, drawing attention to the sense of isolation and loss that prisoners experience. The use of the metaphor of the "prison yard walk" throughout the song highlights the sense of routine and mundanity that prisoners face. Moreover, the song shows the devastating impact on prisoners' relationships beyond bars and points to an overlooked aspect of incarceration, the lack of social connection.
Line by Line Meaning
Well, you wake up in the morning
You start the day with uncertainty and dread
To a rapping on your door
A harsh reminder of your confinement
Someone working for the warden
An agent of authority controlling your life
Says, Get your feet on the floor
Demanding obedience and subservience
You go walking down the hallway
Navigating the monotony of prison life
You feel the eyes on you
You sense the scrutiny of your fellow inmates
And you don't know what they're thinking
You can't read others' minds or intentions
You don't know what they're going to do
You are constantly on alert for any possible threat
You do the prison yard walk
The daily routine of minimal exercise and fresh air
One hour a day
The limited time period allowed outside
With your head in the clouds
Trying to escape your dreary reality
Your feet feel far away
The physical and psychological distance you feel from the world
And you're feeling fine
The fragile moments of contentment amidst turmoil
Taking it one day at a time
The coping mechanism of focusing on the present
Inmate receiving
A reminder of the constant flow of prisoners entering the system
New men walk in
The arrival of fresh faces and unknown dangers
Jeans once worn baggy
The symbolic loss of identity and freedom through shared clothing
Now worn thin
The physical deterioration of clothing and the self
You hand 'em their Bob Barkers
The humbling and dehumanizing act of distributing institutional clothing
And they look you in the eye
The brief moments of human connection amidst dehumanizing conditions
You're just twenty-three
The harsh reality of losing one's youth and potential
And the world's already passing you by
The feelings of being left behind and forgotten
With no laces in your shoes
The restrictions and limitations imposed by prison authorities
We all must pay
A resigned acceptance of accountability for one's actions
For the lives we choose
Acknowledging the consequences of poor choices, but also recognizing the systemic injustice and inequality at play
And your feet are flying
The temporary release from physical confinement through exercise
The girl who used to write you
The loss of romantic connection and hope for the future
Don't write you no more
The abrupt end to communication and the isolation that follows
You stared at her picture
The limited solace of memories and mementos
Till your heart got sore
The emotional toll of longing for what is out of reach
You know she's going places
The bittersweet realization that life goes on outside of prison walls
You're not allowed
The harsh limitations on one's actions and choices
But your memory gets hazy
The inevitable fuzziness of memories left behind
When you think about her now
The painful reminders of loss and longing
And keep an empty mind
The necessary mental state to endure endless monotony and reduce despair
When you've heard every word
The ultimate boredom and saturation with one's surroundings
In your dying mind
The acknowledgment of the spiritual and psychological demise while in prison
And it's the same old voice
The repetitive nature of one's thoughts and routines
You've been hearing your whole life
The realization that one's current circumstances are tied to a lifetime of choices and systemic injustices
You keep yourself busy
The need to find stimulation and meaning in simple tasks to keep hope alive
And do the best you can do
The constant struggle to overcome obstacles and maintain dignity
And they call that killing time
The understanding that time drags on in prison, and it is not life-affirming
But it's the time that winds up killing you
The devastating physical, emotional, and spiritual toll of long-term imprisonment and the need for human connection and purpose
And it's hard to believe
The surreal quality of prison life and the impossibility of imagining life outside of it
It could be any other way
The acceptance of the reality of being trapped in the system and the unlikelihood of escape
Right down the line
The routine and sameness of daily life in prison
Contributed by Zachary Y. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
@graveyardelf6765
Sokolow's guitar just makes this version of my favorite Americans song. Thanks
@bigphilly7345
How the f-u-c-k am I only the third like on this?