Home Page
Louisiana Anthology

Bonnie Parker.
“The Story Of Bonnie And Clyde.”



Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow

You’ve read the story of Jesse James Of how he lived and died; If you’re still in need Of something to read, Here’s the story of Bonnie and Clyde.
Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow gang, I’m sure you all have read How they rob and steal And those who squeal Are usually found dying or dead.
There’s lots of untruths to these write-ups; They’re not so ruthless as that; Their nature is raw; They hate all the law The stool pigeons, spotters, and rats.
They call them cold-blooded killers; They say they are heartless and mean; But I say this with pride, That I once knew Clyde When he was honest and upright and clean.
But the laws fooled around, Kept taking him down And locking him up in a cell, Till he said to me, “I’ll never be free, So I’ll meet a few of them in hell.”
The road was so dimly lighted; There were no highway signs to guide; But they made up their minds If all roads were blind, They wouldn’t give up till they died.
The road gets dimmer and dimmer; Sometimes you can hardly see; But it’s fight, man to man, And do all you can, For they know they can never be free.
From heart-break some people have suffered; From weariness some people have died; But take it all in all, Our troubles are small Till we get like Bonnie and Clyde.
If a policeman is killed in Dallas, And they have no clue or guide; If they can’t find a fiend, They just wipe their slate clean And hand it on Bonnie and Clyde.
There’s two crimes committed in America Not accredited to the Barrow mob; They had no hand In the kidnap demand, Nor the Kansas City depot job.
A newsboy once said to his buddy; “I wish old Clyde would get jumped; In these awful hard times We’d make a few dimes If five or six cops would get bumped.”
The police haven’t got the report yet, But Clyde called me up today; He said, “Don’t start any fights We aren’t working nights We’re joining the NRA.”
From Irving to West Dallas viaduct Is known as the Great Divide, Where the women are kin, And the men are men, And they won’t ‘stool’ on Bonnie and Clyde.
If they try to act like citizens And rent them a nice little flat, About the third night They’re invited to fight By a sub-gun’s rat-tat-tat.
They don’t think they’re too tough or desperate, They know that the law always wins; They’ve been shot at before, But they do not ignore That death is the wages of sin.
Some day they’ll go down together; And they’ll bury them side by side; To few it’ll be grief To the law a relief But it’s death for Bonnie and Clyde.


Text prepared by:



Source

Parker, Bonnie. “The Story of Bonnie and Clyde.” The Portal to Texas History. Web. 5 August 2018. <https:// texashistory. unt.edu/ ark:/ 67531/ metapth78939/ m1/1/>.

Home Page
L’Anthologie  Louisianaise