Tom Waits

Tom Waits - Gun Street Girl lyrics

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Falling James in the Tahoe mud

Stick around to tell us all the tale

He fell in love with a Gun Street Girl and

Now he's dancing in the Birmingham jail

Dancing in the Birmingham jail.

Took a 100 dollars off a slaughterhouse Joe

Brought a bran' new michigan 20 gauge

Got all liquored up on that road house corn,

Blew a hole in the hood of a yellow corvette

Blew a hole in the hood of a yellow corvette.

Bought a second hand Nova from a Cuban Chinese

Dyed his hair in the bathroom of a Texaco

With a pawnshop radio, quarter past 4

Well ,he left Waukegan at the slammin' of the door

He left Waukegan at the slammin' of the door

Chorus:

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.

Sitting in a sycamore in St. John's Wood

Soakin' day old bread in kerosene

He was blue as a robin's egg brown as a hog

Stayin' out of circulation till the dogs get tired

Stayin' out of circulation till 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

Tellin' everyone he saw

They went thatta way.

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

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

With 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

Pullin' into Baker on a New Year's Eve

With one eye on the pistol the other on the door

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

Miss Charlotte took her satchel down to King Fish Row

And he smuggled in a bran' new pair of alligator shoes.

With her fireman's raincoat and her long yellow hair, well

They tired her to a tree with a skinny millionaire

They tired her to a tree with a skinny millionaire.

Chorus:

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.

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