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.