Tom Waits - Gun Street Girl Lyrics
Falling james in the tahoe mudStick around to tell us all the taleWell he fell in love with a gun street girlAnd now hes dancing in the birmingham jailDancing in the birmingham jailHe took a hundred dollars off a slaughterhouse joeBrought a brand new michigan twenty-gaugeHe got all liquored up on that road house cornBlew a hole in the hood of a yellow corvetteA hole in the hood of a yellow corvetteHe bought a second-hand nova from a cuban chineseAnd dyed his hair in the bathroom of a texacoWith a pawnshop radio, quarter past fourHe left for waukegan at the slamming of the doorLeft for waukegan at the slamming of the doorI said john, john, hes long goneGone to indiana, aint never coming homeI said john, john, hes long goneGone to indiana, aint never coming homeHes sitting in a sycamore in st. johns woodSoaking day-old bread in keroseneWell he was blue as a robins egg and brown as a hogHes staying out of circulation til the dogs get tiredOut of circulation til the dogs get tiredShadow fixed the toilet with an old tromboneHe never get up in the morning on a saturdaySitting by the erie with a bull-whipped dogTelling everyone he saw, they went that-a-way, boysTelling everyone he saw, they went that-a-wayNow the rains like gravel on an old tin roofAnd the burlington northern pulling out of the worldNow a head full of bourbon and a dream in the strawAnd a gun street girl was the cause of it allA gun street girl was the cause of it allWell hes riding in the shadow by the st. joe ridgeHearing the click-clack tapping of a blind mans caneHe was pulling into baker on a new years eveOne eye on a pistol and the other on the doorOne eye on a pistol and the other on the doorMiss charlotte took her satchel down to king fish rowSmuggled in a brand new pair of alligator shoesWith her firemans raincoat and her long yellow hairWell they tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaireThey tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaireI said john, john, hes long goneGone to indiana, aint never coming homeI said john, john, hes long goneGone to indiana, aint never coming homeBanging on the table with an old tin cupSing Ill never kiss a gun street girl againNever kiss a gun street girl againIll never kiss a gun street girl againI said john, john, hes long goneGone to indiana, aint never coming homeI said john, john, hes long goneGone to indiana, aint never coming home
