Jesse James Farewell Blues

Now we come to an occupation highly honored among people in the old and new West. At the end of the Civil War a lot of guys came home to the border states, Kansas and Missouri, found out their stock had been run off and their land had been expropriated, or the mortgage had been foreclosed, and they didn't have any home to come back to. They figured, "For this I went off and fought for the Union? Maybe got an eye or an arm shot off. I spent four years of my life to find out I don't have a home anymore."

A lot of these angry young fellows decided to become outlaws, bank robbers and train robbers. I always did feel there were two kinds of desperate people in the world: outlaws and gangsters. Gangsters make their living grafting off of poor people: your rent gouger, your interest gouger, your slum lord, your smack peddler, your loan shark, used car salesman, bank president, any kind of president. Those are gangsters.

Outlaws make their living grafting off of gangsters, and I never could see anything wrong with that. It's probably my own character defect, but I can't see anything wrong with robbing banks as long as nobody gets hurt.

This song is about Jesse James. He came home and found out the farm was gone. It may be a little inaccurate historically, but I had a lot of fun making this one up. The tune is an old Glenn Miller number called "Farewell Blues" which Earl Scruggs played as a 5-string banjo instrumental.

He said, "I think the world is full of hoods,
And they're busy robbin' everybody's goods,
But when they start in on mine, that's where I draw the line,
So I think I'll go and hide out in the woods."

Jesse James he robbed the trains out on the plains;
He used his brain, that was his claim to fame;
But they had him framed to hang, he said, "Please let me explain,
I ain't ashamed, and I'd do it all again."

One morning Jesse woke his brother Frank,
He said, "The sheriff's sneakin' up our flank,
That's a dirty prank I thank, " so he gave his Ford a crank
And they stole a tank and sank a yankee bank.

Jesse hung a picture on the wall,
And Robert Ford he made old Jesse fall;
He was a brave outlaw, 'bout the best you ever saw,
And he stole from everyone and kept it all.

Oh, how I hate to sing these farewell blues,
The blues I choose to use abuse my shoes,
But the posse's on my trail, don't forget to hold my mail,
'Cause you never know when I'll be oozin' through.

Copyright ©1973, 2000 Bruce Phillips

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