Gun Street Girl (2023 Remaster)

One, two, three

Falling James in the Tahoe mud

Stick around to tell us all the tale

Well, he fell in love with a Gun Street girl

And now he's dancing in the Birmingham jail

Dancing in the Birmingham jail

He took a hundred dollars off of Slaughterhouse Joe

Bought a brand new Michigan 20 gauge

He got all liquored up on that roadhouse corn

Blew a hole in the hood of a yellow Corvette

A hole in the hood of a yellow Corvette

He bought a secondhand Nova from a Cuban Chinese

And dyed his hair in the bathroom of a Texaco

With a pawnshop radio, quarter past four

He left Waukegan at the slammin' of the door

He left Waukegan at the slammin' of the door

I said, John, John, he's long gone

Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home

I said John, John, he's long gone

Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home

He's sitting in a sycamore in St. John's Wood

Soakin' day-old bread in kerosene

But he was blue as a robin's egg and brown as a hog

Stayin' out of circulation 'til the dogs get tired

Out of circulation 'til the dogs get tired

Shadow fixed the toilet with an old trombone

He never got up in the morning on a Saturday

Sittin' by the Erie with a bull-whipped dog

Tellin' everyone he saw "They went thatta way, boys"

Tellin' everyone he saw "They went thatta way"

Now the rain's like gravel on an old tin roof

And the Burlington Northern's pullin' out of the world

Now a head full of bourbon and a dream in the straw

And a Gun Street girl was the cause of it all

A Gun Street girl was the cause of it all

Riding in the shadow by the St. Joe Ridge

He heard the click clack tappin' of a blind man's cane

And he was pullin' into Baker on a New Year's Eve

With one eye on the pistol and the other on the door

One eye on the pistol and the other on the door

Miss Charlotte took her satchel down to King Fish Row

Smuggled in a brand new pair of alligator shoes

With her fireman's raincoat and her long yellow hair

Well, they tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaire

Tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaire

I said, John, John, he's long gone

Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home

I said John, John, he's long gone

Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home

Bangin' on a table with an old tin cup

Sing I'll never kiss a Gun Street girl again

I'll never kiss a Gun Street girl again

I'll never kiss a Gun Street girl again

I said, John, John, he's long gone

Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home

I said John, John, he's long gone

Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home