Intro :
Falling James in the Tahoe mud
Stick around to tell us all the t ale.
Well he f ell in love with a Gun Street girl
And now he's dancing in the Birmingham jail;
Dancing in the Birmingham jail.
He t ook a hundred dollars off a Slaughterhouse Joe
Brought a brand new Michigan t wenty-gauge.
He got a ll liquored up on that road house corn
Blew a hole in the hood of a yellow Corvette
A hole in the hood of a yellow Corvette.
He bought a s econd-hand Nova from a Cuban Chinese
And dyed his hair in the bathroom of a T exaco.
With a pa wnshop radio quarter past four
He left for Waukegan at the slamming of the door
Left for Waukegan at the slamming of the door.
I said J ohn 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 s itting in a sycamore in St. John's wood
Soaking day-old bread in kero-s ene.
Well he was b lue as a robin's egg and brown as a hog
He's staying out of circulation 'till the dogs get tired
Out of circulation 'ti'l the dogs get tired.
Shadow fixed the toilet with an old trombone
He never get up in the morning on a S aturday.
Sitting by the Erie with a bull-whipped dog
Telling everyone he saw; "they went that-a-way boys"
Telling everyone he saw; "they went that-a-way boys".
Now the r ain's like gravel on an old tin roof
Burlington Northern pulling o ut of the world.
Now a h ead 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.
Well he's r iding in the shadow by the St. Joe ridge
Hearing the click-clack tapping of a b lind man's cane.
He was p ulling into Baker on a New Year's Eve
One eye on a pistol and the other on the door
One eye on a pistol and the other on the door.
Miss C harlotte took her satchel down to King Fish Row
Smuggled in a brand new pair of a lligator shoes
With her f ireman's raincoat and her long yellow hair
Well they tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaire
They tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaire.
I said J ohn 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.
Banging on the table with an old tin cup
Sing; I'll never kiss a Gun Street girl again.
Never kiss a Gun Street girl again
I'll never kiss a Gun Street girl again.
I said J ohn 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.
