text: 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
  Took a 100 dollars off a Slaughterhouse Joe
  Bought a brand new Michigan 20 gauge
  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
  Bought a secondhand Nova from a Cuban Chinese
  Dyed his hair in the bathroom of a Texaco
  With a pawnshop radio, quarter past 4
  He left Waukegan at the slammin of the door
  He left Waukegan at the slammin of the door
  I said, John, John hes long gone
  Gone to Indiana
  Aint never coming home
  I said John, John hes long gone
  Gone to Indiana
  Aint never coming home
  Sitting in a sycamore in St. Johns Wood
  Soakin day-old bread in kerosene
  He was blue as a robins egg and brown as a hog
  Stayin out of circulation till the dogs get tired
  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 rains like gravel on an old tin roof
  And the Burlington Northerns 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 mans cane
  He was pullin into Baker on a New Years 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
  And she 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
  Tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaire
  I said, John, John hes long gone
  Gone to Indiana
  Aint never coming home
  I said John, John hes long gone
  Gone to Indiana
  Aint never coming home
  Bangin on a table with an old tin cup
  Sing Ill never kiss a Gun Street girl again
  Ill 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 never coming home
  I said John, John hes long gone
  Gone to Indiana
  Aint never coming home