| C | G7 | C | C | |
| San | Quentin, you've been | livin' hell to | me |
| C | F | C | C | |
| You' | ve hosted me since n | ineteen sixty th | ree |
| F | F | C | G7 | C | |
| I've | seen 'em come and g | o and I've seen them | die |
| C | G7 | C | C | |
| And | long ago I | stopped askin' | why |
| 2. San Quentin, I hate evry inch of you. |
| You've cut me and have scarred me thru an' thru. |
| And I'll walk out a wiser weaker man; |
| Mister Congressman why can't you understand. |
| 3. San Quentin, what good do you think you do? |
| Do you think I'll be different when you're through? |
| You bent my heart and mind and you may my soul, |
| And your stone walls turn my blood a little cold. |
| 4. San Quentin, may you rot and burn in hell. |
| May your walls fall and may I live to tell. |
| May all the world forget you ever stood. |
| And may all the world regret you did no good. |
| San Quentin, you've been livin' hell to me. |