Rotting on Remand Billy Bragg

I stood before the Judge that day
As he refused me bail
And I knew that I would spend my time
Awaiting trial in jail
I said there is no justice
As they led me out of the door
And the Judge said, "This isn't a court of justice, son
This is a court of law."

They first sent me to Windsor
And then to Stoke on Trent
In a holding cell in Liverpool
Three days and nights I spent
My solicitor can't find me
And my family don't know
I keep telling them that I'm innocent
They just say, "Come on son, in you go."

I was picked up on suspicion of something I haven't done
Here I sit in 'F' wing waiting for my trial to come
It's a cruel unusual punishment that society demands
Innocent till proven guilty, rotting on remand

I ended up in this jail
Built in 1882
When one man to one prison cell
Was a Victorian value
Now three of us are squeezed in here
And you can't escape the smell
Of that bucket in the corner
And we eat in here as well