Dillinger

Driving across the Illinois plain Hard times in '33 John's got a bottle and he's feeling no pain Just the usual low down misery Hey John don't you think it's a crying shame A man lose a farm and he ain't to blame "They're suckers," says John Dillinger It's another bleak November day Can't decide to rain or snow The money's in the bags and they're getting away Heading north to Chicago Big gray buildings, little gray men Have a little fun then we'll do it again "All right," says John Dillinger Luther's bleeding from a hole in his side I don't believe he'll make it through Ruby cradles his head and she starts to cry Oh God, what can I do? I've always been a gangster's girl Don't die and leave me alone in the world "Shut up," says John Dillinger Across his lap a sub-machine Under his arm a .38 He's feeling alive, he's feeling mean His yellow eyes are filled with hate The papers say he's a Robin Hood Mistreated and misunderstood "Fuck'em," says John Dillinger "All right," says John Dillinger