I always loved those songs. And with my high tenor, I thought I was pretty good - you know? - almost as good as Dennis Day.

You've got a song you're singing from your gut, you want that audience to feel it in their gut. And you've got to make them think that you're one of them sitting out there with them too. They've got to be able to relate to what you're doing.

I kept talking to my producers at Columbia about recording one of those [prison] shows. So we went into Folsom on February 11, 1968, and recorded a show live.

One day, I just decided I'm ready to go. So I went down with my guitar and sat on the front steps of Sam Phillips recording studio.

Come on boys, you must listen unto me, lay off the whiskey and let that cocaine be.

San Quentin, may you rot and burn in hell. May your walls fall and may I live to tell.

I worked there [on Pontiac] three weeks, got really sick of it, went back home and joined the Air Force.