Ode To Wormwood Scrubs

All the best people stay at the Wormwood Hotel,
Itís the biggest in Britain, and Europe, by Hell!
Built in the last century, standing forlorn
Down the road from White City, ten minutes from town.
The staff are so friendly, and dressed in dark blue,
They lock all the doors and take good care of you.

At eight every morning they open your room
While the loudspeaker plays so delightful a tune,
You go to the recess and fill up your bowl
With piping hot water, then back to your hole.
You wash and you shave, then youíre locked up again
Till breakfast, then slop out, and walkies at ten.
On the exercise yard you go round, round and round
While the men with the dogs are patrolling the ground.
Your wife comes to see you, and if youíre in luck,
Sheíll bring in some dope cos you canít have whisky.
And if they donít find it when they shake you down,
Youíll smoke it tonight and get thoroughly stoned.

All the best people stay at the Wormwood Hotel,
They come here for weeks, months or years at a spell,
The staff are so friendly, and dressed in dark blue,
They lock all the doors and take good care of you.

The dinner they serve here is ever so nice,
With hot roast potatoes, or, if you like, rice,
Porridge in the morning may not be your taste,
So if you donít eat it, it makes a good paste,
Just wet it and donít bother over the smell,
And use it to stick photos up in your cell.
You canít take in spirits, but they allow beer,
Theyíre quite easy-going and fun-loving here.
Youíll meet some nice people from all walks of life:
They use cro-bars, pick axes and shotguns and knives;
Thereís robbers and muggers and killers as well,
But very few nonces, and we give them Hell.

All the best people stay at the Wormwood Hotel,
They come here for weeks, months or years at a spell,
The staff are so friendly, and dressed in dark blue,
They lock all the doors and take good care of you.

Thereís Malcolm, a black man from Brixton in here,
He held up a bank and he might get ten years,
Another black, though he is not from down south,
Plays chess every day, heís called Johnson (the Mouth),
He keeps saying how he expects to walk free:
Heíll go down for five or six years just like me.
Thereís Stewart the arsonist, bit of a clown,
Said he fancied a laugh, so he burnt his house down,
And thereís big John from Bristol, a bright one is he,
A hardened recidivist with a degree.
A few right hard cases, but most are no harm,
Pimps, burglars and junkies: theyíre all on remand.

All the best people stay at the Wormwood Hotel,
They come here for weeks, months or years at a spell,
The staff are so friendly, and dressed in dark blue,
They lock all the doors and take good care of you.

Thereís a man from North London, no word of a lie,
Strangled sixteen young drifters, each one with a tie,
Thereís Joseph from Ireland, a loser in life,
Helped murder some geezerís landlord with a knife;
He says he was drunk at the time and should get
Community service, but heís talking wet,
The best he can hope for, Iím sure youíll agree
Is ten years for murder in second degree.
Thereís two men here with unpronounceable names
From Poland, been playing some dangerous games,
Bought four kilos of cocaine and then tried to sell
Half of it to the drug squad, now thereís a sad tale.

All the best people stay at the Wormwood Hotel,
They come here for weeks, months or years at a spell,
The staff are so friendly, and dressed in dark blue,
They lock all the doors and take good care of you.

Thereís one guy who isnít around any more
Had more than a rub or a brush with the law,
Some two dozen of them went round to his pad,
He smashed up their cars with a ruddy great plank.
Thereís all kinds of intrísting people inside,
And very few of them have nothing to hide.
On Mondays they take you along for a bath,
On Saturdays, you can watch Game For A Laugh,
A film every Thursday or Friday for free,
It really is not such a bad place to be.
Donít give them no hassle and so is the word
Youíll find it much easier doing your bird.

All the best people stay at the Wormwood Hotel,
They come here for weeks, months or years at a spell,
The staff are so friendly, and dressed in dark blue,
They lock all the doors and take good care of you.

Yes, I must admit itís a wonderful place,
Though maybe it isnít to everyoneís taste,
While the screws are so pleasant and itís so secure
It wasnít a holiday I came here for.
So if you have better ways to spend your time
Donít make a career or a hobby of crime,
Or the man in the red gown and wig you will see,
And heíll order you to be locked up here with me,
And the rest of the cons in the Wormwood Hotel,
Where youíll spend all your evenings banged up in a cell,
And the staff who are friendly and dressed in dark blue
Will fasten your door and take good care of you.

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