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 hes dancing in the birmingham jail
Dancing in the birmingham jail

He took a hundred dollars off a slaughterhouse joe
Brought a brand new michigan twenty-gauge
He got all liquored up on that road house corn
Blew a hole in the hood of a yellow corvette
hole in the hood of a yellow corvette

He bought a second-hand nova from a cuban chinese
And dyed his hair in the bathroom of a texaco
With a pawnshop 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 john, john, hes long gone
Gone to indiana, aint [bad word] home
I said john, john, hes long gone
Gone to indiana, aint [bad word] home

Hes sitting in a sycamore in st. johns wood
Soaking day-old bread in kerosene
Well he was blue as a robins egg and brown as a hog
Hes staying 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 get up in the morning on a saturday
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

Now the rains like gravel on an old tin roof
And the burlington northern pulling 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
gun street girl was the cause of it all

Well hes riding in the shadow by the st. joe ridge
Hearing the click-clack tapping of a blind mans cane
He was pulling into baker on a new years eve
One eye on a pistol and the other on the door
One eye on a 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 firemans 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 john, john, hes long gone
Gone to indiana, aint [bad word] home
I said john, john, hes long gone
Gone to indiana, aint [bad word] home

Banging on the table with an old tin cup
Sing Ill never kiss a gun street girl again
Never kiss a gun street girl again
Ill never kiss a gun street girl again

I said john, john, hes long gone
Gone to indiana, aint [bad word] home
I said john, john, hes long gone
Gone to indiana, aint [bad word] home