Ballad of the Newton Boys
(by Bob Grez)

Out of Texas they roared -- 1919, 5 and eighty banks notched in their sprees.
Thunder and lightnin' crackin' the sky, when the Newton boys came ridin' by.
They teased, they laughed, flauntin' the law, in Oklahoma and ol' Arkansas.
Pistols pointin' high, shotguns aimed low. Blastin' bank safes with nitro.

Yippee-ki-o, Yippee-ki-a!
Best of the bad boys workin' for pay.
Good boys, bad boys. Boys just the same.
Plain good ol' boys from the plains.

A mail train they eyed sometime in '24, 3 million in mail sacks locked behind steel doors.
Stetsons and masks and overhauls they wore, headin' for ol' Chicago.
Rode into town in cars and on steeds. Guns blazin' away. The last of their breed.
With a hoot and a holler, a kickin' their heels. The boys were just lookin' for deals.

Joe and Jess and Willis, wavin' their guns. Still they believed in hurtin' no one.
Brother Dock was shot from Brentwood's 38, 3 holes from his own friend's mistake.
9 months to 5 years, what they all drew, when the boys were caught, all done and through.
To a ripe good old age all the Newtons had lived. The law could forget and forgive.

Copyright 2000 Bob Grez, All Rights Reserved
Performed by Bob Grez, Jamboree in the Woods