Sorry, Joe.
Jesse James,
Jesse James.
Those roll like thunder in the skies.
Humble, though wild, haunted look in their eyes.
Four men dressed in black headed for that railroad track.
And each knew he might not be riding back.
There were Jesse and his kid brother, Friend.
The younger brothers, too, cold and high.
They all knew how to use a gun.
Tall men who wouldn't run.
And their leader was the one, the Jesse James.
Jesse James,
Jesse James.
And their leader was the one, the Jesse James.
They knew there was gold on the Glendale train.
As they checked their guns and masks once again.
The moon was their guiding light as they
rode on through that cold dark night.
And pushed their horses hard across the plain.
Jesse James,
Jesse James.
And their leader was the one, the Jesse James.
They caught the train as she slowed on her bend.
On hitched a boogieing wagon at the end.
Killed the guards in a fast gunfight.
Then rode off far into the night.
Across the border, wanted man again.
Jesse James,
Jesse James.
And their leader was the one, the Jesse James.
Wonder James,
Jesse James
Wonder James,
Jesse James
Jesse James