Solomon the Gun

Years ago, but one Nineteen hundred and thirty one Solomon the Gun He smoked big cigars He drove really big fast cars On his face a scar He ruled the city Drove us all into pity Made us feel shifty The world his oyster I don't mean to be witty Boiled, fried, roasted He always boasted "I can take anyone out Anytime I wish" He owned everyone Father, mother, daughter, son No one was safe from Solomon the Gun He's always a gangsters son With a Tommy Gun He killed thirteen men St. Valentines Massacre Dirty cold red blood Alibi's no good Now Solomon's on the run The cops after him Nowhere left to run Solomon's shot in the head He was left for dead Oh, he's all but gone Nothing but a memory Newspaper fodder Now, he wasn't brave Buried in an unmarked grave Never to be saved He was just stupid A total stooge and moron Solomon the Gun When you fight the law You'd best have the bigger gun And bigger ego Better be faster On the draw and on the run Or it's your last here Now, you may well say What's the moral of the story? What to take away? Solomon the Gun The moral is simply this Don't be like he was...