I’m selecting a Tom Waits song.  I awoke this morning thinking of steam rising from the bayou, air getting thicker as the sun get higher in the morning.  I live in Seattle – I’ve never experienced the steamy bayou, but that’s how visions come and go.  I read this morning’s theme, and went straight to Tom.

Song:  Gun Street Girl
Album: Rain Dogs
Artist: Tom Waits
Song Writer: Thomas Alan Waits

 

Thanks to Helen for the challenge.  (And thanks to William from 1000 Mistakes for pointing me to this.)  Song Lryic Sunday

 

“Gun Street Girl”

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
Bought a bran’ new Michigan 20 gauge
Got all liquored up on that roadhouse 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

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 Burlington Northern’s 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 man’s cane
He was Pullin’ into Baker on a New Year’s Eve
With one eye on the pistol and the other on the door
With 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 bran’ new pair of alligator shoes
With her fireman’s raincoat and her long yellow hair, well
They tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaire
They tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaire

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

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