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