rendova
05-20-2006, 08:07 AM
Bonnie and Clyde
On May 23, 1934, murderous sweethearts Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow were ambushed on a country road just outside Arcadia, Louisiana by lawmen and irate citizens fed up with their short but bloody reign of crime. Tho they received lots of press, they were looked upon with scorn by other, more professional criminals--Dillinger once referred to them as "trigger-happy punks who give us all a bad name."
The car, a Ford (and it's true that Clyde once wrote a letter to Henry Ford, praising his products and their speed in getaways) took 187 shots. Bonnie, who'd been eating a sandwich, was almost decapitated by the gunfire. In her lap was found a pistol with 7 notches in the handle. Clyde, driving barefoot, was slumped against a window. They were dead, and it wasn't long before souvineer hunters and the morbidly curious gathered in droves to view the gruesome sight--one particulary morbid man even attempted to cut off Clyde's ear with a pocketknife.
Bonnie, who'd been a straight-A student, basically turned to crime out of boredom. Clyde, from a dirt-poor family, wanted nice things fast. It seemed the two were meant for each other and they were truly devoted to one another, tho rumours abounded that Clyde was gay. They delighted in posing for myriad photographs in which Bonnie smoked cigars and Clyde displayed fearsome weapons. It was as if they were kids playing at the gangster game.
Tho glamourized in movies and books, they were in reality two-bit, really rather stupid crooks who did zero planning and rarely netted over a few hundred dollars per bloody robbery. They'd be largely forgotten now except by crime buffs if it weren't for their overkill execution and the 1967 movie which shamelessly and falsely glamourized their inept and rather pathetic crimes and of course, the hauntingly propethic poem that good student Bonnie had left behind after one of their many ambushes by the law. She, perhaps more than any other outlaw, realized what it meant when a person took those first steps on the road to perdition.
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 as ruthless as that.
their nature is raw;
they hate all the law,
the stool pidgeons, 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 law 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 hang 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 awfull 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 smart 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
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.
On May 23, 1934, murderous sweethearts Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow were ambushed on a country road just outside Arcadia, Louisiana by lawmen and irate citizens fed up with their short but bloody reign of crime. Tho they received lots of press, they were looked upon with scorn by other, more professional criminals--Dillinger once referred to them as "trigger-happy punks who give us all a bad name."
The car, a Ford (and it's true that Clyde once wrote a letter to Henry Ford, praising his products and their speed in getaways) took 187 shots. Bonnie, who'd been eating a sandwich, was almost decapitated by the gunfire. In her lap was found a pistol with 7 notches in the handle. Clyde, driving barefoot, was slumped against a window. They were dead, and it wasn't long before souvineer hunters and the morbidly curious gathered in droves to view the gruesome sight--one particulary morbid man even attempted to cut off Clyde's ear with a pocketknife.
Bonnie, who'd been a straight-A student, basically turned to crime out of boredom. Clyde, from a dirt-poor family, wanted nice things fast. It seemed the two were meant for each other and they were truly devoted to one another, tho rumours abounded that Clyde was gay. They delighted in posing for myriad photographs in which Bonnie smoked cigars and Clyde displayed fearsome weapons. It was as if they were kids playing at the gangster game.
Tho glamourized in movies and books, they were in reality two-bit, really rather stupid crooks who did zero planning and rarely netted over a few hundred dollars per bloody robbery. They'd be largely forgotten now except by crime buffs if it weren't for their overkill execution and the 1967 movie which shamelessly and falsely glamourized their inept and rather pathetic crimes and of course, the hauntingly propethic poem that good student Bonnie had left behind after one of their many ambushes by the law. She, perhaps more than any other outlaw, realized what it meant when a person took those first steps on the road to perdition.
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 as ruthless as that.
their nature is raw;
they hate all the law,
the stool pidgeons, 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 law 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 hang 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 awfull 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 smart 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
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.