(Ian McLagan, Ron Wood, Rod Stewart) Cell block five, how I hate Bromide With your coffee in the morning makes you so sterile The corner gang never made a man of me boy You know the walls are tall and the inmates scheme There's no one here that's more than seventeen Bet your life there's a riot tonight in the mess hall listen A letter from your home town makes you sad You read it when the wardens had a second laugh He said sentimental rubbish ain't got no place in here boy See the years roll on by such a senseless waste of time What a way to reform Call out your number who's a nonconformer, not me baby, oh yeah Shakey Brown didn't hang around when a Molotow didn't do its stuff You went back in there and said it with a sawed-off shotgun You know Poker Sam couldn't lose a hand If he did you were hit by a downtown tram Or crushed in the path of a moving elevator, elevator See the years roll on by such a senseless waste of time What a way to reform Call out your number who's a nonconformer, not me baby, oh yeah When I get out, I'll get straight If this old world gives me half a break But, if you see me in the corner with a chip on my shoulder Don't blame me, don't blame me baby, no, no Got to make a break for the county line