Pulled ourselves along Railroad Avenue;
Bullet hole dead, I was,
And the same for you too.
Death has no words in life,
Our dead eyes couldn't see it;
Public enemies, number one;
But in death we couldn't keep it.
Never dead together,
And the Parker's wouldn't have had it;
The robbery and murder
Was always way of habit.
At 9.15 the bullets rained as snow,
On that day of our death.
I would've told you then;
But I didn't have the breath.
I've gone away, our bodies apart,
Into the nothingness after life;
Chestnut and Elizabeth
Could never have been man and wife.
Sweet Ferguson, though in love,
Was married and never divorced him;
And the life with Chestnut
Was always going to end
As it started,
And for ever will be;
A tale macabre and grim.