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...
Copyright © Jeff W. Watson | Year Posted 2021
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