Christmas in Prison
Old Sap Channels Tenderness and Truth on Prine’s “Christmas in Prison,” Out December 5
A timely Christmas cover reflecting on love, loss, and America’s long crisis with incarceration.
Asheville-based folk poet and songsmith Old Sap is releasing his intimate cover of John Prine’s “Christmas in Prison” on December 5th, offering a stark and soulful take on a holiday classic too often overshadowed by its more cheerful seasonal counterparts.
“I’ve had a pretty loathsome relationship with Christmas music,” Old Sap admits with a laugh. “Nine years of Catholic school, and my parents used to put the Christmas station on in the car on November 1st every year. That was all they listened to for two months. Then I worked a retail job one Christmas, and that sent me over the edge.”
But time has a way of softening things.
“As I get older, I’ve found more Christmas tunes I can appreciate,” he says. “This is my favorite one.”
A Holiday Song With a Heavy Heart
Originally released by John Prine in 1973, “Christmas in Prison” tells a deeply human story. “In classic John Prine fashion, the opening lines feel quirky,” Old Sap notes, “but the subject matter is actually heartbreaking.”
The song appeared at a watershed moment in American history. After decades of steady decline, incarceration rates began to rise sharply in the early 1970s following President Nixon’s declaration of the “War on Drugs.” Today, the U.S. holds 5% of the world’s population and 20% of its prison population, maintaining the largest carceral system in the world for over two decades. Racial inequity remains staggering: over two-thirds of those incarcerated are people of color.
The trend intensified after the 1994 Crime Bill, which incentivized longer sentences and harsher enforcement, particularly for low-level drug offenses disproportionately affecting impoverished communities of color.
“In 2025, we’re now dealing with an entirely new type of detainment and incarceration,” Old Sap says, “perpetrated by I.C.E. against migrant communities.”
He points to the first week of Border Patrol raids in North Carolina this year—Operation Charlotte’s Web—where over 370 people were detained, with 350 individuals still unaccounted for in public records. Families have not been told where their loved ones are being held.
He recalls the testimony of a Chicago-based activist describing ICE facility conditions: “There is no privacy… lights on all day and night… rooms built for 80 holding between 150–200… no working showers, no blankets, insufficient food, no toothbrushes, no medications…. They beat the shit out of these people in the street, then throw them in a room with no medical attention.”
These are the realities that make Prine’s song feel painfully contemporary.
A Personal Connection to Justice
Old Sap’s connection to the song runs deeper than admiration. His father worked in Chicago as part of a program known as Diversion, a restorative approach to justice that offers meaningful alternatives to incarceration.
“These programs route non-violent offenders out of the prison system,” Old Sap explains. “They get social services, job prospects, housing, in sort of an intensive probationary program. By the end of two years, as long as they’ve satisfied all the requirements, their records are wiped clean. The recidivism rate in these programs is miniscule compared to everyone else who stays in jail.”
That model—focused on rehabilitation rather than punishment—shapes how Old Sap hears the song.
A Song for Anyone Missing Someone
“I love that the chorus is so beautiful, so catchy, and expresses a feeling so universal,” he says. “The feeling of missing someone you love, the feeling of defying whatever odds and forces are stacked against you at the moment, and to hold onto the will to persevere and keep on breathing for the sake of that love.”
He adds:
“We can’t just throw away people and forget about them. That is someone’s lover, someone’s parent, someone’s child that we’re locking up. I dream of a world without prisons.”
The song is re-created by fellow Asheville musicians, Jackson Grimm – backup vocal, guitar; Quinn Sternberg – upright bass; Ross Montsinger – drums; Jackson Dulaney – pedal steel; Zoe Norris – fiddle together with Old Sap on lead vocal and banjo. With a vocal nod to Prine’s style, this version is equally folky and maintains the down-to-earth authenticity of the original.
Old Sap’s rendition is sparse, honest, and heartfelt—a reminder that Christmas is not joyful for all, and that love persists even behind locked doors.
“Christmas in Prison” releases December 5th on all streaming platforms.