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• Artiste: Max Morath
• Titre: Waitin' for the Evening Mail
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I was standing by a jail this morning when I heard a hard lark brother moan, "I'm in here right where I don't belong. I never done no wrong." I walked by his window. I could hear him moaning his song. "I'm sitting on the inside, looking at the outside, waiting for the evening mail. Four walls that are peeling, Lordy what a feeling. Just a mean and low-down jail seperating me from every thing but the evening mail. I'm like a ship without a sail. But I wrote my one time mama down in Jacksonville said,'sweet mama I'm in jail. Honey please don't fail me. Hurry up and mail me bail.' That was just a year ago. I'm still in the inside, looking at the outside, waiting for the evening mail." I had a letter handed to me yesterday. It was from a mama that I met down on mobile bay. She said, "honey won't you please send me down some bail. They caught me fooling around with the evening mail." I had another letter from a man named Stout. Said he was gonna get me as when I got out. Said now he was gonna meet me right down there at the gate. Brother he don't know how long he's got to wait. I'm sitting on the inside, looking at the outside, waiting for the evening mail. Four walls that are peeling, Lordy what a feeling. Just a mean and low-down jail seperating me from every thing but the evening mail. Now I wrote my one time mama down in Jacksonville said,'sweet mama I'm in jail. Honey please don't fail me. Hurry up and mail me bail. I'm still in the inside, looking at the outside, waiting for the evening mail.