(Warren Zevon)
|
On a small Missouri farm
|
Back when the west was young
|
Two boys learned to rope and ride
|
And be handy with a gun
|
|
War broke out between the states
|
And they joined up with Quantrill
|
And it was over in Clay county
|
That Frank and Jesse finally learned to kill
|
|
Keep on riding, riding, riding
|
Frank and Jesse James
|
Keep on riding, riding, riding
|
'Til you clear your names
|
Keep on riding, riding, riding
|
Across the rivers and the range
|
Keep on riding, riding, riding Frank and Jesse James
|
|
After Appomattox they were on the loosing side
|
So no amnesty was granted
|
And as outlaws they did ride
|
They rode against the railroads,
|
And they rode against the banks
|
And they rode against the governor
|
Never did they ask for a word of thanks
|
|
Keep on riding, riding, riding
|
Frank and Jesse James
|
Keep on riding, riding, riding
|
'Til you clear your names
|
Keep on riding, riding, riding
|
Across the prairies and the plains
|
Keep on riding, riding, riding
|
Frank and Jesse James
|
|
Robert Ford, a gunman
|
Did exchange for his parole
|
Took the life of James the outlaw
|
Which he snuck up on and stole
|
No one knows just where they came to be misunderstood
|
But the poor Missouri farmers knew
|
Frank and Jesse do the best they could
|
|
Keep on riding, riding, riding
|
Frank and Jesse James
|
Keep on riding, riding, riding
|
'Til you clear your names
|
Keep on riding, riding, riding
|
Across the rivers and the range
|
Keep on riding, riding, riding
|
Frank and Jesse James
|
|
-----------------
|
Frank And Jesse James
|
| Warren Zevon |
