Lyrics
The outlaw Jesse James was up in heaven
With old friends around the kingdom throne
Boys I was branded as a bandit and bank robber
But I ain't never turned a family from their home

We're sworn to pass no judgments here in heaven
But there's goings on a man can't stand no more
There's no open carry up in heaven
But please give me back my trusty .44

Con permiso yo me voy to dear old Wall Street
My .44 will do the talking from now on
I'll cut you down to size my banking brothers
Put that bonus money back where it belongs

You picked the pockets of los pobrecitos
Spreading hardship and trouble through the land
Sus sirvientes pago bien para sus falsas
That's what Jesse James could never understand

Un minuto a rezar y un segundo para morir
That's all you birds will ever get from me
Now you lined your pockets well but I'll see you all in hell
Quemando como dinero for all eternity

Copyright: Wixen Music Publishing
Writer(s): Ry Cooder




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2011 - Ry Cooder - El corrido de Jesse James
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